


The Hispanic

by In_Dee



Series: Escorpio [1]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-05-15 06:49:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dee/pseuds/In_Dee
Summary: A case grows more complex and dangerous when one of their own gets taken.





	1. Chapter 1

Sam came to with a groan, snapping to attention a moment later. He had no idea where he was and why he was here. Disregarding the pain, he pushed himself up, reaching for the gun that was still tucked into the holster.

The area around him was deserted, his car stood a short distance away and his partner… he turned in a full circle, glancing around, finding his partner’s badge, phone and gun on the ground a few feet away from him…

His partner seemed to be missing.

Xxxxxxx

By the time Sam made it back to the mission, Ops was a hive of activity. Next to Eric and Nell, several other techs and analysts were sifting through data, checking CCTVs and trying to uncover leads on Callen’s whereabouts.

Sam was in a bad mood… a really bad mood.

The meeting with their CI should have been routine. Both Callen and he had known Marc for years and there had never been anything wrong. Sam wasn’t sure if Marc was in on the attack on them, but if he was and Sam got his hands on him…

“What do we have?” he asked when he entered the tech room, his voice controlled but only barely hiding the fury he felt.

“Preciously little,” Eric groused. “There were no cameras at your meeting place. The SUV you described doesn’t show up on any CCTVs in the area. Either they changed cars a block over or they are still in the area. We have Kaleidoscope looking, but so far nothing.”

“There’s nothing happening on your CI’s bank accounts, which doesn’t discount the possibility that he got money handed the good old fashioned way and is intelligent enough to hold onto it instead of making it appear in his bank accounts,” Nell spoke up.

“Any suspicious transfers in the last 6 months?” Sam asked, his eyes on the monitors.

“Not that I can find,” Nell shook her head, frustration clear in her voice.

“Keep looking,” Sam encouraged before turning, not wanting to snap at either tech and knowing they were doing all they could without him putting any additional pressure on them. Kensi and Deeks were on the way back from Camp Pendleton where they had checked up on the previous leads, trying to find who had been in the know about the missing weapons.

Xxxxxxx

When Callen came to, his head was pounding and he wondered if it was trying to fall off his neck… and if that wouldn’t actually be a good thing right now considering how he felt. Groaning softly, he bit his lips when even that small sound vibrated through his brain and the pounding intensified.

Movement around him alerted him to the fact that he wasn’t alone and he forced his eyes open, blearily glancing around to orient himself.

Warehouse… go figure. It was always either an empty warehouse or maybe a chop shop where things like this happened.

He was positioned to one side of the vast room, tied to an uncomfortable chair with zip ties - hands and feet, they were cautious it seemed. Several men were working, shifting crates - probably the missing weapons they were investigating.

Well, it seemed that he had found the weapons. Too bad he couldn’t do anything about it, tied up as he was.

Callen glanced around, trying to locate his partner, wondering if Sam had managed to get away after all when he couldn’t see him anywhere close by. The attack had come as a complete surprise. Marc had been a trusted CI for years and neither of them had expected any foul play. Not a mistake he would repeat.

Looking back, he distinctly remembered the slight widening of Marc’s eyes just a moment before it had all gone to hell. He wondered how they could have missed Marc working against them, or if their CI had been just as surprised and had had nothing to do with the attack.

The attack itself had been a precision strike, surgically executed. He remembered starting to turn upon seeing Marc’s tell when a dart had hit him. The sedative must have been acting more or less instantly, not even leaving him time to get the dart out or reach for his gun.

He winced and squeezed his eyes shut when someone toppled one of the crates over and it crashed to the ground. Breathing through the pain the sound evoked, he forced his muscles to relax, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good to be tense.

Right now, people were ignoring him and he would use that time to get his bearings and observe as much as he could.

Different reasons for agents being taken hostage came to mind…

Split second decision under duress for the agent to act as a shield. That definitely didn’t apply here. There was nothing split-second about the set-up and no one had needed a human shield.

Negotiation with whatever agency employed said agent. Maybe.

Intimidation purposes - for personal or professional reasons. Another maybe.

Information gathering. Another maybe… a risky move that most criminals weren’t willing to make, but some were bold enough to go that way.

Only time would tell which one it was. Callen knew he would need to be patient to find out.

Approximately half an hour later, the energy in the room changed and the men grew tenser. Several minutes later, a large SUV rolled into the warehouse before the shutters were closed once more.

Callen breathed deeply and put his game face on. The top dog had arrived. He openly watched several men step out of the car, his eyes moving over all of them. All of them were dressed smartly, but his experienced eye picked out the one in charge easily. It was in the way the man held himself, a cocky arrogance and superiority. He instantly let his training and years of experience take over in deciding how to handle this.

Callen made himself relax in his chair, returning the man’s stare openly. Challenges were being issued back and forth between them even before one word was uttered.

The man came to a stop in front of him, looking down on him… literally and metaphorically. Callen swallowed back the anger at being at a disadvantage, making sure it didn’t appear on his face. It wasn’t the first time he found himself on uneven footing with an opponent and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Agent G. Callen,” the man stated evenly. There was a strong Spanish accent, corresponding to the man’s visual appearance… tall, handsome, dark hair and dark brown eyes. There was intelligence in the man’s eyes, a cold calculating glint that put Callen on edge… not that he let it show.

He morphed his face into adapting an easy smile. He leaned back and if he weren’t bound to the chair by his hands and feet, he would be sprawling. He saw the tightening in the man’s expression, knew the insolence and blatant disregard without fear he showed in his posture alone was angering the man. It was a risky game considering he had no means to protect himself right now, but he needed to find out more about this man and what pushed his buttons. “I seem to be at a disadvantage here. You obviously know my name, while I’m unaware of yours,” he drawled, skirting the line of insolence while giving the man the satisfaction of admitting his disadvantage.

The smile that appeared on the man’s face was indeed satisfied… a top dog’s need to assert dominance being stroked and petted. “I am partly disappointed and mostly satisfied you do not know my name,” the man gave back with a mild smile.

If he were a rooster, he would prance around and display all his feathers right now, showing the world just how much better he was than everyone else. Callen refrained from rolling his eyes. He tilted his head to the side. “So what can I do for you on this fine day? I suspect there is a reason for our meeting or are you just wasting my time because you don’t know the right way to go about social calls?”

Even while he said it, he knew it had been a touch too much. The fist to the face therefore didn’t come as too much of a surprise and he managed to turn his head with the punch, grimacing upon the blood that tickled down his temple despite his effort to soften the blow.

“Enough,” the man said mildly when the hired muscle drew his hand back for a second punch. “I have some things to discuss with Agent Callen. He won’t be able to converse if he is unconscious.”

' _Things to discuss_ ' meant the man was after information first and foremost. This man was one of the few who seemed to be bold enough to grab a federal agent to get to know the state of things, the magnitude of the investigation. Risky. Bold. Arrogant. It fit with what he had seen in the man so far.

' _Things to discuss_ ' also meant that he had some uncomfortable hours ahead of him… especially since he wouldn’t be inclined to discuss all that much.

“Agent Callen,” the man said, calling his attention, “it has come to my attention that you are currently investigating my business.”

Of all surprising things, this was actually one at the top of his list, because so far, their investigation into the missing weaponry at Camp Pendleton had pointed them towards a Bosnian that acted as an intermediary for a Pakistani group. There had been no hints of any connection to men with Hispanic heritage. Still… two could play the game of ‘go fish’. Callen pursed his lips in thought, “there are always a lot of investigations ongoing,” he said slowly, “you may want to be more specific.”

He was playing this game with several distinct disadvantages… not having hired muscle to punch the opposite player was one of them. Callen spat out a mouthful of blood, barely biting back the smirk when the splatter hit his opponent’s fancy shoes. Better the guy’s shoes than Callen’s shirt… which was technically Hetty’s shirt… though he supposed the man had enough wealth that Hetty would bill him for all she could. And knowing Hetty, she would find a lot of things to put on the bill… including medical treatment, and stitches for Callen’s split eyebrow.

“I’ll be more specific then… you are investigating the theft of M16A Rifles and M252 Mortars from Camp Pendleton.”

Callen didn’t give anything away. Aside of those two weapon specs, several Javelins and high tech sniper rifles had also gone missing. The men obviously weren’t fussed with what they stole, as long it was some heavy firepower. “I see,” he gave back evenly.

Again, there was a tightening in the man’s expression, but this time it wasn’t accompanied by a punch. Instead, there was a short pause before the man spoke up once more. “I would like to know about the status of the investigation and how close you are to unveiling my involvement.”

Callen smirked, insolent and lazy, “let’s go with _very close_ and work our way down from there,” he suggested.

The other man tsk-ed him and shook his head, “you see, I don’t believe you,” he disagreed though there was a tiny spark of worry and speculation in his eyes. It was gone very quickly, but Callen saw it nonetheless. He had put the seed of suspicion into the earth. Now he would need to water it and care for it so it grew. For now, he was on his own, but he was an accomplished agent who was well versed in using misinformation and misdirection to his advantage. He just had to take care that he didn’t tangle himself up in the web of fabrications he was about to spin.

Still, he enjoyed a good challenge and he got the feeling that this challenge would be quite big…

Xxxxxxx

“Damn it,” Eric cursed and threw his hands up in the air.

Nell glanced at him, somewhat sympathetic to his frustration since she herself felt the same way.

“There’s just a whole lot of _nothing_. _Nada_. _Nix_. _Niente_ ,” Eric groused, standing and starting to pace Ops.

Knowing her partner in crime, Nell knew better than to approach him right now. Sometimes, Eric outpaced his frustration. She gave him five minutes before she would intercept him and see if she could redirect his focus and put that energy to better use. Until then, she would continue her own tasks and try to find out where Callen had disappeared to.

Xxxxxxx

They were dragging him into the cave, forcing him to stumble along. He wasn’t sure if he could move in a straight line without support… not that he would move along voluntarily.

The hours he had spent with The Hispanic - and the fact that he _still_ didn’t have a name was bugging him _a lot_ \- had been quite painful, as he had suspected. At the same time, it hadn’t been as painful as he had expected them to become. They had roughened him up some; the man had asked questions and they had traded quips and innuendos without making any headway.

His vision was slightly impaired due to a swelling of his left eye and his head was throbbing along with his ribs and abdomen. Still, it could have been much worse and somehow Callen got the feeling that he was missing something. Something important.

His presence in this cave did nothing to reassure him either and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to act on that elusive something even if he managed to puzzle it out.

They entered another cavernous chamber - the third in a row of chambers connected by narrow and low passages - and Callen openly glanced around. It was the largest chamber so far and what he could see from the flickering lights the men held, he could detect an outcropping forming a wide ledge at a height of maybe 8 feet. The ceiling stood another 8 feet or so higher. The walls were damp and the ground was moist sand in some places and rock in others.

Callen grunted when one of the gorillas drew him to a stop and forced him down on his knees. The other man reached for something behind him and he glanced over at the tinkling of metal, seeing the gorilla approach with a chain. His eyes followed the chain back to its origin, finding it bolted firmly into the cave wall. Adrenaline doused him and without thought and warning, he bucked against the man holding him, taking him by surprise and landing several punches and kicks. The second gorilla let go of the chain and helped to intervene, being met with a roundhouse kick to the head. It glanced off but dazed the man enough to make him back off. Callen turned back to gorilla #1 and cursed when he was already back in his space, forcing him to step back to establish some distance. Another two steps and he knew he was being herded and backed into a wall. Gorilla #2 also came back into the fray and several kicks and punches later, Callen found himself face down on the ground with the iron shackle settling around his left wrist. The clicking of the manacle’s lock sounded ominous.

The Hispanic - as he had taken to calling him in his head - watched the whole spectacle from a distance. When he was sure to hold Callen’s attention, he took a step forward and motioned for his hired muscle to let Callen up. He made it to his knees before gorilla #2 put a hand on his shoulder, restraining him from getting up further.

“Now, Agent Callen. I fear it’s time we part ways.”

“Pity,” Callen spat, allowing his voice to carry all the sarcasm he had held back before.

The Hispanic smirked and Callen definitely didn’t like the smirk - or the cold and calculating gleam in his eyes that reappeared. “You know, these caves have been used for hundreds of years. Pirates have stored their treasures inside for safekeeping.”

Reigning himself back in and regaining control over his reactions, Callen smirked back, “now, now. I didn’t think I ranked as a treasure for safekeeping in your book. You flatter me.”

The Hispanic rolled his eyes at having his pretty speech interrupted. He straightened, a self-important rooster ruffling his feathers, pretending not to have been interrupted. “I have some important business during the next few days and I can’t have you and your colleagues traipsing around my business deals. I guess they will be looking for you and that should keep them somewhat busy.”

It seemed Callen had forgotten one important option in his lists of ‘why one would nab a federal agent’: as a distraction.

Anger suffused him. He was being used as a distraction to keep NCIS’ attention away from The Hispanic and his shady dealings. The Hispanic would make this a treasure hunt and - considering his current whereabouts - a race against time for his team. His situation was precarious and he knew his team would drop everything else they were investigating in regards to the case if they were made aware of his predicament. The remaining question was whether The Hispanic would play by fair rules or not.

Callen feared what this would do to Sam. His partner had lost Michelle a little over a year ago in a challenge not all that different from this one and Callen feared the psychological anguish this might cause Sam.

He hoped he would be able to get himself out of this alone and before his team was made aware of his current situation. He still had a bobby pin or two on him and the manacle had an old fashioned locking mechanism. He just had to keep calm and make certain The Hispanic wouldn’t get to know about his contingency options.

The gorillas were stood on either side of him and from the corner of his eye he noticed the glance passing between them. He was too slow to react to that silent communication though, a split second too late to act. Instead, thug one delivered a powerful kick to his side while thug two smashed a fist against his temple and then followed him down, the man’s bulk on his back keeping him immobile while thug one reached for his unshackled right wrist and drew it away from his body, stretching his arm out.

The Hispanic stepped closer and squatted down slightly after pinching up his designer pants to protect the hems from the sand. He smiled down at Callen when he strained to glance up. Their eyes met and the smile slid into a vicious smirk. “I’ll leave you that bobby pin in the back of your belt,” he said conversationally and Callen fought to keep his face neutral, both at being found out and even more so at the suspicion that entered his mind. “You may use it… if you can.” In a lightening quick motion, The Hispanic stood and brought his foot down on Callen’s restrained right hand in one swift and strong strike. Again, he was too slow to read the intent, though there wouldn’t have been much he could have done to protect himself with the two gorillas on him. He heard and felt bones snap in his hand and instantly pain shot up and down his right arm, making bile want to climb up his throat. Even if he hadn’t been shackled to the wall, he couldn’t have made use of the newfound freedom when the gorillas let go of him. Instead, he was curled around his hand, panting through the waves of pain.

“I wish you luck, Agent Callen. I’m sure you’ll need it to have a hope of withstanding the oncoming trial,” The Hispanic said conversationally before he stepped back and set his gorillas upon him once more, letting them lay into him with fists and feet until unconsciousness swallowed him.


	2. Chapter 2

“We need you up in Ops… _now_!” Nell’s voice contained urgency and all three of them jumped up from where they had been discussing possible leads to chase down.

They were exhausted. Callen had been missing for close to two days now and there was preciously little they knew. Still, they had all been out on the streets, connecting with CIs, with other agencies or the local PD. No one had gone home to rest. They had taken short alternating breaks throughout the nights, catnapping on the couch that was quietly referred to as _Callen’s_ in all of their minds.

Stampeding up the stairs, all of them strode into Ops. Eric and Nell were turned to their computers, analyzing and doing whatever it was they were trying to do… probably trying to trace wherever the picture had come from that was displayed on the big monitor.

Callen was obviously unconscious, sprawled on his side. There was blood on his face, a cut visible at his hairline and his left eye was puffy and beginning to swell. His clothes were rumpled and torn in places, but there was no indication of grievous wounds that had bled enough to be visible on the fabric. His left wrist was enclosed by a thick metal cuff that was connected to the wall with a sturdy and thick chain. The ground he lay on was part rock and part sand with some damp patches. The walls around him were rough rock. Aside of the chain bolted to the wall, the location gave no hints of anything man made. Instead it seemed to be some kind of natural cave.

“Where did the photo come from? Any chance to trace it?” Kensi asked, the first to find her voice and start up with the questions that would hopefully help them locate Callen.

Eric glanced up, “we received an Email with the photo as an attachment. The mail itself was routed through multiple servers. I’m still tracing it, but it will take a while.”

“Time stamps and geo-location on the photo?” Sam asked, turning to Nell.

“We already checked,” she said, shaking her head and putting the data up on the second screen, “no luck on either. The data was deliberately compromised. I’m trying to undo what they’ve done, but it’s not looking good.”

Deeks remained quiet, his eyes on the photo of Callen, studying it intently and looking for something only he could see.

“Any sign of manipulation?” Kensi asked.

“Haven’t gotten around to check that yet,” Eric gave back, a slight grimace on his face, his fingers still flying over the keyboards.

Deeks suddenly straightened sharply, stepping closer to the screen and cursing.

“Deeks?” Kensi asked carefully.

The Detective pointed to several areas of the photo. “Can you zoom in and enlarge these portions of the picture?”

Nell nodded, instantly doing as Deeks asked and singling out the three areas he had marked before putting them on the screen over the original photo, displaying them side by side.

Deeks studied the pieces of the picture intensely. “Shit,” he cursed again after several moments. “Calculate the height of this mark,” he pointed to the first enlarged area, showing a faint line on the wall, “and then we need an estimate of the length of the chain binding Callen, and Callen’s height,” he said, his voice shaking with strain. Deeks went over to an unused computer terminal and started looking for something himself.

Sam frowned at the enlarged close-ups and reached for the touch screen, picking out the original photo and swiping it over to the secondary screen, trying to find what Deeks had seen and why he had singled out the three areas for close-ups.

The first was the close up of a stretch of wall with the faint line Deeks had pointed out. The wall below that line looked moist, the rock above not so much. The second close up was of a puddle on the ground by Callen’s feet, some smaller pebbles sticking out. And the last was a piece of vegetation lying by the wall.

It was then that he understood. A bolt of fear went through him and he, too, swore. He traded a glance with Deeks who turned towards him, both of them acutely aware of the danger their team leader was in.

“G’s height doesn’t matter so much. The chain is definitely long enough for his feet to leave the ground. Length of his arm and neck would be more important,” Sam told Nell who had Callen’s file open, dismissing that part of Deeks’ directive.

“Anyone want to cue in the rest of us?” Kensi asked tensely, having noticed the heightened urgency but not seeing what her team mates had seen.

Deeks turned to her, his eyes betraying his emotions. “That’s a sea cave. The walls are wet because the tide comes in and floods the space. The mark up there is an indication of how far the water rose when the last tide was fully in.”

Nell and Eric paused for a heartbeat or two, Nell sucking in a sharp breath, before they both simultaneously returned to their tasks with even more urgency.

“The tide should be coming in,” Eric spoke up without looking up from what he was doing. Of course he would know that, Deeks would too. Both of them spent a lot of time on the water, catching the waves. They would both know the timetable of the tide.

“Yeah, it is,” Deeks nodded and moments later he brought up his own search results. “High tide is in 5 hours. With the full moon and the current weather, we have harsh swells. The tide’s gonna be higher than average. Predictions go for a maximum of 7.2 feet,” he told the room at large, his voice worried.

“We need those measurements and we need that geo-location, guys,” Sam urged, a hollow feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

“We have to be able to reduce the number of possible caves somehow,” Kensi suggested, “not all caves are high enough to stand in like that one definitely is.”

“It has to be isolated enough and deep enough so a man chained inside won’t attract attention. The space looks rather large,” Sam added with a nod.

Deeks took out his phone, “I know a few people who regularly explore sea caves. I’ve gone with them a few times but the location in the picture isn’t familiar to me. Maybe they can narrow it down further. Send the photo to my phone.”

“Done,” Nell replied in a curt tone, seemingly not stopping from what she was doing, ever multi-tasking.

“The Coast Guard or National Park Service should be able to provide us with a list of known sea caves in the area,” Kensi suggested, moving over to the computer terminal that Deeks had used, looking up the information needed to make contact with other authorities.

No one wanted to address the possibility that this was a sea cave further away and they were wasting their time with checking the ones closest to home. Callen had been gone for nearly two days, so he could have been shipped quite a distance during that time.

Eric looked up and brought up the original picture now with measurements added into the photo. “The measurements are crude, best I can do without a good reference point. The chain is bolted to the wall at a height approximately 1.6 ft. With the maximum tide expected of 7.2 feet that leaves 5.6 feet needed so that Callen wouldn’t drown.”

“Straining and with his arm stretched, it should give him another 3 feet or so,” Sam muttered.

Eric swallowed, “the chain is not lying straight in the picture so I can’t be certain about the length of it. By my best guess it’s 2.6 to 3 feet long,” he said slowly.

“That’s a very narrow margin of error, Eric,” Sam said slowly. Everything hinged on ‘maybe’s’ and with the uncertainty of the measurements, it didn’t give him a feeling of confidence. The possibility of G drowning in that cave if they were too late was very real. He forced his mind away from the flashback of losing his wife in a similar race against time.

“I know,” Eric muttered, shooting Sam a helpless gaze.

Deeks strode back into Ops, putting his phone away. “There are five caves Jonas knows of in a 150 mile radius that might fit the one in the photo. All of them on the Channel Islands,” he announced, “he’ll send the coordinates to Eric in a moment.” He looked at the photo of Callen with the measurements displayed and blanched after he had done the math in his head.

Behind them, the door opened and Hetty stepped into the room. “The Coast Guard has been informed. They are sending a chopper to pick you up and deliver you to the Cutter closest to the Channel Islands.”

As always, no one knew how Hetty was aware of everything that was going on, but as always, they were thankful for it as she had the knack for _getting things done_.

“Mr. Beale, Miss Jones. Forward the coordinates you get from Mr. Deeks’ contact to the Coast Guard to minimize any delay. We’re on a tight timetable,” she ordered before turning to the rest of the team, adding another directive, “bring him home.”

Xxxxxxx

Sam, Deeks and Kensi had been gone for nearly 4 hours, had checked the first two caves on the list but had come up empty. Eric and Nell were offering whatever help they could from Ops, but it wasn’t all that much. They were still trying to figure out where the photo had come from and if they could restore the compromised data.

Eric glanced over when Nell sat up with a shocked gasp and a muttered, “oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly concerned, abandoning his own searches.

Nell trembled briefly before turning to Eric, “check the data, please.” Her face was ashen, her eyes wide and scared.

Moments later, Eric understood Nell’s reaction perfectly.

Xxxxxxx

“Kensi, skip the third location,” Nell’s voice came over the comm.-system.

“You got something?” Kensi asked, hopeful and already turning to the Captain of the Coast Guard Cutter, relying Nell’s order without waiting for an explanation. The wonder twins wouldn’t change their plan without being sure. Callen’s life hung in the balance after all.

“We managed to restore the geo-data and it corresponds with the fourth location on the list,” Nell said slowly, her voice subdued despite the breakthrough.

“That’s good news, Nell,” Kensi reassured, glancing at her watch. There was still time to spare. High tide wouldn’t be for another hour.

There was a pause before the analyst went on, “we’ve also restored the time stamp,” Nell hesitated again, before sighing, and going on in a quiet voice, “the photo was taken yesterday, Kens.”

Kensi straightened sharply, feeling ice cold fear wash over her, “wha-“ she broke off, swallowing against the sudden nausea that followed the plummeting fall of her stomach that had nothing to do with the bumpy ride, “Nell, what are you saying?”

“The time stamp shows the picture was taken yesterday morning at shortly before 8 o’clock,” Eric’s voice came on, taking over from Nell.

“But that would mean…”

“That Callen has been in there for close to 32 hours and this is the third tide coming in,” Eric finished.

The repercussions of this weren’t verbalized, but all three of them were following the same thought. They could have already lost Callen. This could end up being a retrieval of his body instead of a rescue mission.

Kensi shut down the connection and leaned over the closest console, trying to get herself back under control. Deeks and Sam hadn’t been on their comm.-system during her talk with Ops. Both men were poised to go into the water to check the next location. While Sam was the only Navy SEAL on their team, Deeks had a lot of experience on the water and he had additional experience in diving. He preferred to be on the water instead of below the surface, but he hadn’t hesitated in offering Sam backup.

She left the bridge to join her team mates and relay the information.

Xxxxxxx

“We are operating under the assumption that he is still fighting. Until I see his body, he is alive,” Sam snarled, “survival is what he does best, always has.”

Kensi knew she was just an available target, being the bearer of possibly devastating news… and fact was, she could understand Sam’s urge to lash out. She herself held it in. She breathed deeply, “I’m not saying anything differently,” she replied in a forced calm voice, “you got food and water with you? He’s going to need both.”

Sam let out a slow breath when her words obviously appeased him.

Deeks put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze, “yeah, we’ve got something,” he replied to Kensi, turning his head slightly when the sound of the engine changed and the Cutter slowed down, approaching their destination.

They would know one way or another soon.

Xxxxxxx

They had studied the maps and available photos of the caves, had read through the handwritten information Jonas’ had sent along with the coordinates.

All of the caves were dangerous, with narrow passages that often could only be passed while diving when the tide was high. Additionally, the currents were tricky and strong.

Sam had trained and worked in these environments, but Deeks hadn’t and the former SEAL had worried about taking Deeks along at first, not wanting to endanger one team mate to save another. Deeks had stood his ground though, arguing that Sam needed backup in these caves. There were several trained men on the Coast Guard Cutter who would also fit the role to take over the mission, but Callen would lash out to protect himself from anyone and anything he didn’t know. After 32 hours of fighting, his survival instincts would trump over rational thought, especially if hypothermia was thrown into the mix. Sending those men in could end in their deaths, if they didn’t manage to convince him of their identity. So Sam and Deeks going in together was the only solution everyone could see.

After the first two caves, Sam was relieved to say that Deeks was capable. He was a strong swimmer, experienced with diving and snorkeling. They were going into the caves without oxygen tanks due to the narrow passages and Deeks was keeping up well with Sam, sometimes taking point.

They were making their way into the cave, following the descriptions they had and doing their best to minimize the risk to themselves and each other.

Sam knew that they would find G soon, but he didn’t know how to prepare himself for what they might find. G was good at beating the odds, but 32 hours inside of the cave, struggling against these conditions and the strong currents, without food or water and chained to the wall with a chain of indeterminable length… Sam prayed that his partner’s luck would hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this sea cave is purely fictional. I have never been to the Cannel Islands, so I have no idea what kind of caves there are.  
> Also, a tide that high is rather unusual (though it happened on the Channel Islands as my research uncovered), but a max tide of 4 feet just doesn't sound impressive ;)


	3. Chapter 3

He was fighting… again. This was the third time the tide came in and by now, he wasn’t sure anymore why he was prolonging his suffering.

The first two tides had been harsh, but this one seemed to be even worse. He couldn’t even tell if it was objectively worse or if it only felt that way because he was tiring.

The two catnaps he had managed between the tides on relatively dry ground hadn’t helped in getting his energy levels up. Instead, he had lain shivering against the cold and damp. The moist cold had penetrated and settled deep in his bones. By his calculation, he’d had about two hours of relative peace before the next tide had started to tickle in… slowly at first and then rising faster and faster.

He was used to getting little sleep, but this was extreme, even for him… especially considering the added stress and physical exercise of fighting against the elements.

He had tried to pick the lock despite his fractured hand, disregarding the pain it brought, forcing his fingers to curl around the bobby pin and trying to manipulate the lock, but obviously The Hispanic had not left anything to chance. Sometime after he had been knocked unconscious, the man had managed to break the locking mechanism. His bobby pin had been useless.

Another option had been to try and dislocate his left thumb so he could slide his hand out of the manacle, something he had done once before while in captivity. He hadn’t been able to get enough purchase and strength with his broken hand to pull his thumb out though.

By now, the water level had risen to nearly full height. He was not yet straining to keep his head above the water, but he knew he would be once the tide was fully in. He could only hope it didn’t rise any higher than the last two or he would not be able to keep his head above the water.

The currents were sucking on him, sometimes managing to submerge him and trying to drag him off. He had no way to secure a hold on the wall with one hand tied down by the chain and the other out of commission due to being broken. Moving his fingers was a problem already, so gripping something and bracing his weight was simply out of the question. It made this all the more exhausting, since he couldn’t hold on to the wall and rest his legs for a while.

Coughing when he swallowed what had to be just another sip of a gallon of salt water so far, he restrained the urge to swear, deciding he better save his breath. Still, the urge was there.

He couldn’t see the water ripple against the walls that left him sputtering, couldn’t brace against what he couldn’t see. The light that The Hispanic had so graciously left on the ledge had burnt out hours ago and left him in pitch black nothingness.

He had never been afraid of the dark, instead had often embraced it as a trusted friend and used it for his own purpose to cover his tracks and vanish, but in combination with the eerie hollow of the cave, the unforgiving ocean and his weakening state, he was beginning to fear the darkness, beginning to fear that it would swallow him.

Still, he continued fighting, some small shred of hope burning bright in him.

He had faith in his team and he hoped that The Hispanic had made enough mistakes to lead them here. He just hoped they would hurry up. Even if he survived this high tide, he wasn’t sure if he could withstand a fourth one.

Actually, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t.

He was still fighting - against the current that constantly tugged on him, against the cuff that kept him chained to the wall, against the pain in his body from multiple wounds and bruises, against the exhaustion of hours of struggling and against the panic that threatened to swamp him - when the water around him brightened slowly with some kind of light. He didn’t know if it was friend or foe who came for him, and the appearance of light was enough to douse his body with yet another dose of adrenaline. When a head emerged beside him, he shrunk back, readying himself for whatever fate decided to throw at him now, willing to go down fighting and take someone along with him if he had to.

Xxxxxxx

In the twilight of his headlamp he saw a pair of human legs as he made his way into the chamber and he knew this was it. Even before he broke the surface of the water, he could see the purposeful movements of the limbs, saw that the body wasn’t just tugged around by the current. His heart skipped a beat… Callen was alive.

Breaking the surface, Deeks swam over… and barely ducked away from the attack, managing in time to get out of his team leader’s reach. There was a mad glint in other man’s eyes, the desperation of an animal backed into a corner and on the last vestiges of strength but willing to do anything to fight for its survival.

“Callen,” he called, dragging down his goggles, hoping it would make the other man aware of his identity, make him more recognizable. The current chose that moment to withdraw and Callen was sucked under water, unprepared against the pull of the tide with his focus on him. Deeks reacted instinctively and dove to securely bring the other man back up. This time he was within reach when Callen started fighting and Deeks cursed before pushing his team leader against the cave wall, holding him there and crowding close to minimize Callen’s options. “Damn it, Callen, stop fighting me,” he urged, ducking a punch. “Sam,” he yelled, hoping the former Navy SEAL would appear soon. They were clearing one cave after the other in their search for their missing team leader. For this one, Deeks had taken point and Sam should only be a few seconds behind. Right now, those few seconds felt like minutes. Callen was coughing and struggling at the same time, and even though he must be weakened by hours of battling against the water and the cold, Deeks had his hands full with him.

When Sam broke the surface behind Deeks, the younger man didn’t glance back, “I could use a hand here,” he called urgently. Moments later, Sam’s presence joined him and together they held Callen’s frame against the cave wall with Sam also starting to talk to the other man, trying to break through to him.

Their headlamps were lighting the cave up in harsh angles, dancing over the walls and reflecting on the moisture.

The current was tugging on them and Deeks reached for the wall, trying to find purchase on the rough and slick rock. Sam used his bulk to secure Callen from the other side, somehow seemingly completely unperturbed by the current pulling on them, a SEAL in his element.

It took a few more moments before Callen started to register their presence as something other than threats, Sam’s words or his voice obviously making its way past his instinctive reaction and into his rational brain. Deeks could feel him shaking against them when he held himself still.

“Easy man, we’ve got you,” he muttered.

“Deeks? Sam?” the man’s voice was shredded and he coughed, inhaling water when the current rushed in and rippled against the rough walls in exactly that moment. This time, it was Sam who swore and angled his body to use it as a buffer against the water to shield Callen.

“Yeah, we’re here, partner. We’ll get you out of here,” the former SEAL reassured his friend and partner.

Callen shook his head and glanced down to where his left hand would be beneath the water, held to the wall by the chain. “Lock is broken,” he gave back in a croak and Deeks could hear the fear and desperation in his voice before it reappeared in Callen’s eyes, threatening to overwhelm the usually calm and unflappable agent.

“Callen,” he called sharply, watching the man’s eyes swing over to him, “we won’t let you drown. We’ve got tools with us and we’re here to keep you afloat. Trust us.” If Callen had survived the first two tides, the chain was long enough for his head to remain above water and secure his breathing, so even if they couldn’t get him loose, they would be able to keep him alive.

Xxxxxxx

It took an immense amount of self control not to succumb to the panic that time after time swirled through his body, dousing him with one adrenaline peak after the other whenever the current started sucking on him, trying to drag him back down and under. In one way, Sam and Deeks’ presence was making things worse… rescue was close by but he was still chained and his instincts were stuck in overdrive. On the other hand, Deeks’ and Sam’s presence was slowly sinking in and helping him to relax. Still, he struggled with a silent mantra to keep himself from losing it: _trust them_.

Trust wasn’t exactly his strong suit. In all his life, he had never been able to trust anyone, but over the years of working with this team, they had managed to earn his trust. He trusted them to protect his back in the field, but somehow this - being stuck in a cave that filled with water as the tide came in - was overriding any rational thought. The fact that he hadn’t drowned yet, that there was enough slack in the chain to keep his head above the water even if the tide was in full as he had experienced twice before, eased some of his immediate worry of drowning, but still his basic survival instincts were in full swing. Logical thought was having a hard time trumping instinct.

Deeks’ slighter frame had replaced Sam’s bulk on his right side and the younger man kept them both wedged against the rocks, his movements steady and sure. Confidence and strength was in every line of his body and Callen tried to take comfort in it. Deeks wouldn’t be here if he didn’t know he could handle it. The man was confident but never reckless. Considering the Detective regularly battled the current while surfing, he probably had every right to be confident.

He was glad for the man’s presence as his partner was currently submerged, trying to get a better look at the shackles that held him chained to the wall. Callen hated to admit it, but he was rather certain that he would succumb to panic without someone there so he could reassure himself that he wasn’t losing his mind and that his team mates were indeed here.

Callen shuddered and allowed a sigh to escape, closing his eyes.

“Callen?”

The worry in Deeks’ voice made him look up. “I’m good,” he reassured - a feeble attempt even to his own ears.

Before Deeks could reply, Sam reappeared. “They disabled the locking mechanism. The chain is sturdy but the bolt cutters should do the trick,” he told them both.

Deeks nodded but didn’t move from his position, keeping him afloat and anchored. Their bodies were pressed against each other as Deeks held him securely against the wall. Over Deeks’ shoulder, Callen watched as Sam swam around them to the damn ledge that had been out of his reach, a safe place teasing him with its presence. Not being able to see it anymore when his only light source had flickered out eventually, had nearly been a relief. Sam hoisted himself up on the ledge and then shrugged off the waterproof backpack he carried. Within moments, his partner was back in the water with bolt cutters securely held in his hand. They made brief eye contact and Sam gave him a reassuring nod. It was the nod that bolstered his courage and made his body relax a bit. He knew his partner and right now, Sam was focused but not overly worried.

Exhaustion was dragging on him, a testament to hours of struggling against the elements. The more his team mates’ presence sunk in, the more the level of adrenaline in his system started to abate. The current sucked on his body, threatening to drag him off, but Deeks’ hold remained strong and sure.

“Relax. I’ve got you,” Deeks told him calmly, obviously feeling him slacking off. “We’ll have you lose soon, then you can rest. Until then just hang onto me and let me do the work.”

Callen slowed his movements, keeping on treading water but giving some of the effort over to Deeks. The younger man adjusted his hold slightly but didn’t complain. “Ok?” Callen asked in a mutter, trying to keep his struggling body functioning. So far, he had been poised to fight, had ignored all the aches and pains, the cold and exhaustion, but with Sam and Deeks’ presence and the tantalizing hope of soon being free, his body began to demand his attention… demanded to acknowledge the pains, the cold and the utter exhaustion.

“Yeah, all good.” There wasn’t a note of strain in the other man’s voice, so Callen relaxed a little bit further, trusting Deeks’ judgment and letting him take over.

Sam reappeared moments later, taking several deep mouthfuls of air. Then a growl escaped his partner once the current dragged on him. Sam’s hand went to the wall, finding purchase to hold on. “First side of the link is broken,” he informed them. “You good?” The question was addressed more to Deeks than to Callen, so he didn’t bother answering. Instead, he allowed his eyes to close, breathing as deeply as possible. Deeks’ hold was firm and the wall in his back rather unforgiving. His ribs complained. He ignored them. Not much longer now.

He guessed there was a silent communication passing between Sam and Deeks. He ignored them too. Moments later, he heard Sam take a breath and then his partner was going back under.

There was no slackening of the chain to tell him he was free, instead it was merely a subtle shift of the direction of the pull on his wrist, a tug into the direction of the tide instead of towards the wall. Sam came up moments later. “Alright, he’s free,” his partner said before swimming over to the ledge and putting the bolt cutters up.

Callen started straightening, pushing away from the wall, but Deeks held him there. “Callen, let us do the work,” he told him firmly, “don’t fight us. I’ll bring you over to the ledge and we’ll get you out of the water. We’ve got it under control, ok?”

It would probably be easier if he let them do the work instead of getting sucked under water when he was struggling on his own. It was just a few feet to the ledge, but his energy was low. Then again, he didn’t want to be towed. He had always been self sufficient, saving his own ass as much as possible. Still, some part of his rational brain agreed with Deeks. It would be easier and probably safer for all of them. Sam and Deeks were in good physical condition while he was struggling to keep his limbs working. The last thing anyone needed was for him to be sucked under when he misjudged the current. He gave a small nod of agreement and Deeks gave him a smile before he shifted. Without releasing his secure hold on him, Deeks moved them slightly so he was behind Callen. Sneaking an arm around his chest, he turned them. Still, Deeks waited and Callen was about to ask what the hold-up was about when he felt the current pulling off. Another three or four heartbeats later and Deeks pushed off, using the incoming water to help move them towards where he wanted them to go. Within moments they reached the ledge and Deeks turned them around, with Callen facing the rock. Deeks remained behind him, bracing Callen and keeping him secure.

Sam was already up there and reached a hand down. Callen started lifting his right hand before he reconsidered and stretched his left hand up. His broken right was numb and useless right now but if Sam gripped it to draw him up, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t pass out. Sam noticed the change but didn’t comment.

With the help of both men, it only took a few moments before he was sat on the ledge. Beside him, Deeks scrambled out of the water as well and his team mates helped him back away from the edge and further up on the secure piece of outcropping. He bowed his head down, feeling himself beginning to shake in a reaction to the cold and all the adrenaline that was still in his body and had no place to go now that he wasn’t moving anymore. He was numb to what was happening around him, needed a moment to gather his wits about him.

His head came back up when nimble fingers started working on the buttons of his shirt, the verbal question consisting of a half irritate, half confused “huh?”

“We’ll have to get you out of the wet clothes,” Deeks explained without stopping.

Callen’s hand rose up to brush his team mate off, the attempt somewhat uncoordinated. “We’ll go back into the water anyway,” he mumbled.

“No, we won’t,” Sam spoke up on his other side, busy with extracting two thermal and one wool blanket from one of the waterproof packs they had brought.

“But…”

“Too dangerous,” his partner shook his head and shuffled over, “you’re beyond exhausted, G. Your lips are blue and your coordination is off. The tide is still coming in so it would be a battle against the current. The passages are narrow most of the time so we can’t tow you and you’d need to dive several times. The way out is dangerous as it is and you’re in no state to handle it,” he told him bluntly. “We’ll wait for the tide to lower and then get you out on foot.”

He wanted to argue for the sake of arguing that he could handle it, but found the words didn’t come. Callen didn’t want to remain inside this cave another moment longer, but the thought of going back into the water, battling the current and diving to make their passage outside scared the hell out of him.

In the meantime, Deeks had finished unbuttoning his shirt and Callen shrugged out of it, hissing when the garment snagged briefly on his broken right hand. Without further ado, Deeks reached for his pants and Callen wondered if he should protest more. Deciding it probably wasn’t worth the effort, he allowed his team mates to shift him this way and that and before long, he was stripped down and bundled up in the woolen blanket before an additional thermal blanket was wrapped around his body. The second thermal blanket was stretched out beneath him to keep the cold rock from leeching what little warmth he retained.

“Lie down,” Deeks directed firmly and again, Callen found himself following the directive. His thought process was slowing down now that the immediate threat had passed and the cold was sinking in.

He distantly noticed Deeks withdrawing from his side. Moments later, Sam took his place. “G?”

Callen managed a soft hum of acknowledgement and turned his head slightly, fighting to focus on the present while his mind was struggling to catch up with everything.

In the background, he could hear Deeks talking, giving a sitrep to someone. Callen glanced over and frowned.

“Ear wig in the waterproof bags. We’ve got a Coast Guard Cutter outside,” Sam explained without being prompted. When Callen turned back to his partner, he knew what was coming even before Sam opened his mouth, “you know Hetty will want to know the state of your injuries.”

It was Sam-code for _I want to check up on you_ and Callen rolled his eyes somewhat good naturedly. “Why is it you always want to check up on me?”

“Someone’s got to do it,” Sam gave back with a grin and a shrug, falling back on the security of their usual banter.

“Still not my mother, Sam,” Callen muttered with something that might pass for a smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Thank the heavens. I’d have to use more disciplinary actions against you than I’ve had to use for both my kids _combined_.”

He smiled slightly to himself because that was Sam-code for ‘ _I’d take care of you_ ’ and ‘ _you’re family_ ’.

Sam reached for him, his fingers questing for the pulse point in his neck while glancing at his face, a silent prompt in his eyes. “Right hand is broken. Some cracked ribs. Bruises. Nothing more,” Callen told his partner. The worst of his injuries was indeed the fracture of his right hand. That one would keep him out of the field for quite a while he guessed. The rest would mend quickly.

“You forgot the hypothermia,” Sam groused. He leaned over Callen and caught his eye. “I want you to listen to me, G. No moving around, no trying to get up. You’re at least mildly hypothermic. Circulation to your limbs has been mostly shut down to protect your core temperature. The blood in your limbs is much colder and can lead to a further decrease of your core temperature if it rushes in. We don’t have a lot of equipment with us to handle this, so please behave.”

The tone of voice was showing how worried Sam was. As a former SEAL, his partner had a lot of experience and training in conditions like this, was also medically educated to take care of him, so Callen decided to defer to him and do as Sam asked. “Alright,” he replied with a slow nod, trying to ignore the shivers that wracked his body.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam watched his partner shiver. At least he was still shivering and conscious. If he stopped feeling cold or lost consciousness, they would be in real trouble. Some of G’s reflexes seemed somewhat delayed, but not enough for Sam to upgrade him from mild to moderate hypothermia. That he was only mildly hypothermic was impressive considering he had been in the cave for over 32 hours fighting the cold water. The fact that G was doing as Sam had asked, not moving if one discounted the shivers that wracked his body, was worrisome though. A docile Callen was cause for concern.

Sam glanced at his watch. The tide should be turning right about now and he guessed they would have at least 4 hours before the water was low enough to evacuate G. If push came to shove, they could possibly accelerate it, but as long as G didn’t deteriorate they would wait out the tide.

They didn’t have much with them to help stabilize G and warm him up, but they had brought a thermos with sweetened tea. His partner needed the fluids and some electrolytes. Sam turned to the pack that held the thermos, giving Deeks a nod of thanks when the other man nudged the bag closer. Deeks was hovering close by without hovering, seemingly knowing that G needed some space right now and not be crowded by two worried team mates.

The younger man had done a fabulous job so far. Sam had been worried if Deeks could handle this, but he had to admit that Deeks had proven himself capable, easily keeping up with Sam. He was glad to have Deeks with him, knew that G would have fared worse with a stranger taking care of him. Back in the water, when Sam had cut him loose, he had seen something in G’s eyes that let him know just how close to the edge he was. Sam had his doubts that G would have remained calm if it had been anyone else but people he trusted implicitly - well, as implicitly as a man like Callen could trust, that was.

Sam opened the thermos and poured some of the tea into the lid that also doubled as a cup. G’s eyes had fallen closed, but Sam knew he wasn’t sleeping or unconscious, just trying to settle himself. True to his impression, his eyes sprung open when Sam called his name. He held up the thermos and G moved to disentangle himself from the blanket before Sam stopped him. “Stay down,” he reminded his partner softly, “let us do the work.” There was a brief sparkle of annoyance in G’s eyes and Sam had to smile to himself. Docile he may be, but there was some fight left in his partner.

Sam put his hand beneath his partner’s neck and tilted his head up, putting the cup to his lips.

G first took a slow sip of the fluid before his body caught up with the fact that he was thirsty and finally had something to drink at his disposal. Starting to swallow more quickly, he growled in annoyance and some sort of proprietary instinct when Sam withdrew the cup. “Take it slowly, G. Slow sips or you’ll just start retching,” Sam advised quietly, tilting the cup back against G’s lips and nodding when his partner followed his directive.

“You couldn’t have brought something that tasted better?” G asked with a grimace when he had emptied the cup, shivering in his blankets and obviously fighting to keep his teeth from chattering.

Sam barked a short laugh, glad to see some of the ‘normal’ G Callen. “Sorry, the Starbucks on the way was undergoing renovations and Hetty didn’t offer anything from her secret stash,” he gave back and watched as G relax a little upon his reply.

“Pity,” the other man muttered, continuing to tremble in his nest of blankets.

Xxxxxxx

Despite the blankets, any tiny shred of body heat he had retained so far seemed to just bleed out of him. Callen continued to tremble and shudder. He had curled up on his side, drawing his body in as tight a ball as he possibly could despite the pain in his ribs and abdomen from the punches and kicks he had suffered.

Sam had been feeding him sweetened tea and some bites of an energy bar in regular intervals and while that helped a bit with the thirst and hunger, it didn’t feel like it gave his body the needed boost to warm itself up.

He needed to get his mind off of what had happened, needed to do something productive. “Sam?” he called, opening his eyes and craning his head to glance over to where both Sam and Deeks were currently conversing softly.

Both men came over instantly, poised for taking any action needed. Callen bit back the smile.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked and Callen rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“I’m not dying yet. Relax,” he grinned easily. The effect was somewhat ruined by the way he was shaking, the thermal blankets crinkling slightly upon the movement. “The case… you got The Hispanic?” He had some unfinished business with the man. Callen didn’t particularly appreciate the happenings of the last two days and he would be sure to let The Hispanic know that.

Sam frowned at him, tilting his head to the side.

“What Hispanic?” Deeks asked slowly, beating Sam to the question.

Callen narrowed his eyes. He thought they would have found the cave by finding The Hispanic and extracting the information. “The stolen weapons… Camp Pendleton… ring a bell?”

Deeks and Sam traded a glance before Sam leaned closer to him, scrutinizing him intensely before reaching for his neck and checking his pulse. Callen frowned, trying to back away, “what are you doing?”

“The case got somewhat sidetracked after your disappearance, but the _Bosnian_ hasn’t reappeared,” Deeks told him before nodding towards Sam, “and _he_ is worried you’re getting worse, confusion is a sign of hypothermia after all.”

Callen curled his lips in frustration and anger, shrugging Sam off. He was rolled up tightly in the blankets so he did have a rather limited range of movement, but he was seriously considering disregarding Sam’s previous directive and getting up. He rolled over onto his back. “Damn it, that’s exactly what he wanted. There’s something happening. He wanted us out of the way. Help me up.”

“G,” Sam said warningly, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him down.

Again, he growled and strained briefly against his partner’s hold before sinking back down with a grunt. There wasn’t all that much he could do, even if he could get up. The water was still high so getting out of this damn cave was not yet on the agenda. “Get me that ear wig and connect me to Ops,” he ordered, watching Sam and Deeks trade another glance. He narrowed his eyes in warning. Even if he was currently not in peak condition, he was still their team leader, “now!”

Deeks was the first one to fold, moving away and over to where they had stashed the packs.

Callen shot his partner a dark look when Sam drew in a breath, “not a word, Sam. I’m not delirious or hallucinating. I spent several rather unpleasant hours in the presence of the guy and let me tell you he was _not_ Bosnian. He didn’t even know the language.” And Callen had talked to him in Bosnian to make sure the man didn’t con him, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. What Callen had said to him had been a rather convoluted way of insulting his heritage and intelligence both. There had been no recognition in the man’s eyes _at all_ and while he might have an alright poker face, the man’s overall attitude wouldn’t have allowed him to let that insult slide. So no, Callen was sure that The Hispanic wasn’t a Bosnian in disguise.

Deeks knelt back down beside him and Callen turned his head, offering his ear. “Put it in or help me get out of the tight wrap,” he told the younger man, rolling his shoulders a little.

At least he was currently feeling warmer, probably thanks to focusing his mind on something else and the anger that was rolling through him. Deeks did as he asked, inserting the ear wig. Callen nodded in thanks when the other man sat back again. “Nell? Eric?” he asked.

“Callen, it’s good to hear your voice,” Nell stated, her voice softened by emotion and he felt himself relax slightly.

“Right back at you,” he replied with a smile, repeating the sentiment when Eric chimed in as well. “Listen, guys, I need you to check out a few things. Our previous Intel was incomplete. There’s another player - or the Bosnian is a hoax. Not sure about that,” he said, once more considering that angle. He hadn’t managed to get anything out of The Hispanic considering the Bosnian’s existence. There hadn’t been surveillance tapes or any solid evidence on the Bosnian before he had disappeared either, so he couldn’t be sure if the man was a hoax or if he did exist after all. He shook his head. That didn’t matter right now, finding The Hispanic did.

“What makes you say that, Mr. Callen?”

He briefly smiled to himself upon hearing his mentor’s voice. He wasn’t surprised when Hetty entered the conversation, had actually been surprised she hadn’t been there from the start since Deeks had most certainly warned Ops he wanted to talk to them.

“The guy I was confronted with was a Hispanic male, late thirties to early forties, 6 feet, dark hair, dark brown eyes. He has a strong accent, my best guess would be Colombia or Venezuela. He’s the one behind this and no, he’s not a figure-head. His attitude and handling spoke of being in charge and everyone deferred to him,” he told Hetty and the techs that he was sure were still listening in. “Our first stop before they stashed me in the cave was a warehouse in Northridge. They were storing the weapons there, but started moving them. Across the street was a biker shop; can’t tell you anything more than that. Taking me was part information gathering and part distraction. He wanted us out of his hairs for the next few days so we wouldn’t interfere with his business. Something is going down right now.”

He could hear people typing in the background, knew that Nell and Eric were already starting their searches with the information he had provided.

“I don’t know what car they first brought me to the warehouse with, but the one leaving was a gray Ford transit delivery van. Newer make and model. There were several prints on the side. No idea what they advertized but the colors were blue, red and gold. Check the CCTVs in the area between midnight and 2 am yesterday morning. Backtrack it and find that warehouse. See where that leads you.”

“On it,” the wonder twins said simultaneously, their voices tense with concentration and purpose. Those two were always a revelation to watch. Their minds worked on a different scope compared to his or the rest of the teams. Field agents often drew instinctual connections made from years of being on the street while Nell and Eric dug deep to find the electronic proof to their own or the team’s hunches. If there was something to find, those two would find it.

Callen mentally shook his head, nudging it back to the topic of providing information.

“Oh, and… the gorillas he set on me were also Hispanics. One of them had a tattoo under his left ear. It’s half hidden beneath his hair. It was a stylized scorpion, the tail curling up and around behind his ear. Check the database. I’ve got the feeling he might be in the system.” Probably for aggravated assault or something like that. Callen’s lip curled up in dismay and impotent anger.

“Alright. Thank you, Mr. Callen. Now… how are you?” Hetty asked.

“I’m freezing, Hetty,” he told her frankly, “and I’m pissed that my partner thought I was getting delusional. Frightened himself into thinking I would keel over. He should know better.” The reproach was clear and Sam had the decency to look somewhat abashed under the annoyance. Callen smirked. Deeks masked his laugh as an unconvincing cough. Hetty cleared her throat in a way he knew she used to hide her own smile.

“You should cut him some slack, Mr. Callen. The last two days have been stressful on all of us.”

“Don’t I know it,” he muttered, another shiver wracking his body. “Let us know what you find.”

The wonder twins agreed easily before the connection was cut and Callen sighed.

Sam knelt down next to him, holding up the cup of tea as an olive branch. Callen rolled his eyes at his partner, but grinned, letting him know he was forgiven. He stretched his head up, grunting in thanks when Sam further supported his head and allowed him to drink. “How much longer?” he asked when he lay back down.

“Another hour or so before the Coast Guard Medics will come inside.”

“Hold on, what?” Callen asked, his eyes narrowing. He had been under the impression that they would make their way outside on their own.

This time it was Sam who rolled his eyes. Deeks wisely stayed out of it, pretending to be engrossed in the contents of one of the backpacks when Callen glanced over to him. He returned his focus to Sam. “Your limbs are still ice cold, so no walking for you yet. You’ll get the cushy return ticket, lying on a stretcher while we will wade through knee high water to get you out.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Callen asked, his voice low and dangerous. He strained his neck, feeling at a disadvantage lying down and unable to move.

“Afraid not,” Sam shook his head before he held up his hand. “Seriously, G. You’re still shaking like a leaf and you can’t tell me you’re feeling much warmer than when we found you. Fighting against the cold and the tide for 32 hours with no food or water has taken its toll on you so your body is struggling to adjust and warm itself.”

Callen allowed his head to sink back to the ground, grinding his teeth. He thought about lying, but knew the shivers and shudders were giving him away, no matter how good his poker face might be. He also considered unwrapping himself and getting up, but there was no place to go _to_ right now either. For Sam’s sake, he hoped that was really necessary and not payback for his comment to Hetty earlier, otherwise he would find very creative ways to make sure Sam knew he was cross with him. “I’m gonna tie that guy to a block of cement and sink it under the boathouse with him attached to it once I catch up with him,” he muttered venomously, having no outlet for the impotent anger but dreaming up some sort of revenge on The Hispanic.

“I’ll bring the rope,” Deeks piped up from behind, making Callen relax somewhat. The team had his back - that was all he could hope for. He forced himself to lie back and shifted slightly to find a more comfortable position to wait out the tide and the rescue that he obviously would have to endure.

Xxxxxxx

His voiced - and unvoiced - threats against The Hispanic had gotten more creative and imaginative when the medics approached him with an IV so they could pump him full of warmed fluids.

Knowing he wouldn’t find an alley in his mother-hen of a partner who was still gravely worried (or in Deeks, who was doing his best to stay out of it), Callen swallowed down his irritation and instead plotted just when he would be able to escape the clutches of the medical personnel… he reckoned that with some skill, luck and misdirection he might already manage to do so on board of the Coast Guard Cutter. If not, he would have to wait until they were back on solid ground.

In the meantime, he had to admit that he was beginning to feel slightly warmer as he was carried through the tunnel system and the warm intravenous fluid was slowly trickling into his body.

The first hint of natural light - even if it was late evening - was a shock to his system and a relief both. Callen blinked rapidly to make his eyes adjust to the brightening light. The fresher air was also a balm to his soul and he took in a deep lungful of it without making it obvious he was doing so, not wanting to alert anyone, forever used to always trying to hide emotions and sentiments.

Despite his eyes having trouble to adjust, he was glad when they stepped out of the cave and he got his first view of the sky.

The air around them was markedly warmer than inside the cave and he considered de-mummifying himself. A knowing and warning glance from his partner stopped him… for now. Still, he rolled his eyes at Sam for good measure.

There was a short trek to where a smaller vessel was waiting to take them back to the Coast Guard Cutter that was anchored off shore.

Despite having been forced to walk into that cave on dry ground himself, after battling with 7 feet high water inside he was amazed to see that the ground in front of the cave was mostly dry with just some puddles remaining in certain places now the tide was low again. In a way it was impressive, what incredible force the ocean posed… impressive and intimidating after his battle with it.

Sam slipped into the vessel next to his head while Deeks positioned himself at his feet. Despite being in the relative safety of friendlies, he was glad for their vigil, strategically placed to shield him. He didn’t think it was happenstance. These men knew him after all. He gave his partner a small nod of thanks that Sam returned with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam, Deeks and Kensi were using the Coast Guard Cutter’s bridge to confer with Ops and he used the unsupervised time to disentangle himself from the blankets and unhook the IV. His core temperature had improved over the 4 hour trip to LA and he was fed up with being laid up on his back. His broken right hand had been put into an inflatable cast and x-rays would be needed to determine whether or not he would have to undergo surgery. He hoped not. His survival instincts were working on full throttle right now and allowing himself to be put under for any kind of surgery might just tax his good will and endurance.

One of the medics entered the sick bay while he was dragging on some scrubs. The man stopped in his tracks and watched him with wide eyes. “You shouldn’t be getting up yet,” the man stated before stepping forward.

“No offense, man, but it’s time for me to stop lying around. We’ll be docking in LA in twenty minutes or so by my calculation,” and by what Sam had let slip before heading to the bridge, “and me being carried onto the ship will not be followed by me being carried off of it.”

“Your core temperature…”

“Improved over the last four hours to the point where circulation has been restored. I was listening to the doc when he came here half an hour ago,” Callen interrupted. He was still cold and would be looking for some warmer clothes as soon as he had access to them, but he didn’t feel like shivering apart anymore and it was more of a remaining chill than feeling frozen to the bone.

“Your hand…”

“Will be looked at later on,” Callen shot the next argument down. He would love to skip that examination, but a functional right hand was kind of important to have in his line of work, so he would go and get it checked out… _after_ he was brought up to speed on state of the investigation. “Get me the papers so I can sign myself out AMA if you have to.”

The medic raised an eyebrow and smirked, “I’d like to see you try signing those papers with that hand,” he nodded towards the improvised cast.

Callen returned the smirk easily and raised his left hand. “Ambidextrous.” That might be stretching it a bit, but his coordination when working left handed was well enough to sign some papers and shoot some people.

The medic threw up his hands in exasperation and turned, muttering that he would get the doctor to come and speak with Callen. Callen gave him five minutes. After that, he would leave sickbay and go check on the state of things himself.

Xxxxxxx

Sam turned when someone entered the bridge, doing a double-take when his partner wandered in. “What the…” he started only to sigh in exasperation. Of course. He shouldn’t have left G on his own devices in sickbay. He should have sat on him or have him sedated if he wanted to avoid this exact thing from happening. His partner didn’t do _sick_ and _laid up_ well so it shouldn’t come as a surprise he had escaped the clutches of the medics. Actually, it should come as more of a surprise that it had taken G as long as it had to make his escape.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Deeks grinned, his eyes pointedly roaming over Callen’s frame and the scrubs he had acquired.

G ignored them both. “What do we have?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “an idiotic lead agent who is not where we left him in sickbay.”

G smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “No need.”

Sam crocked his head to the side, tilting his chin towards Callen’s hand, “if nothing else, _that_ one says differently.” At least his partner wasn’t shivering anymore. His tremors inside the cave had been prominent enough to shift his whole body a few inches every now and then.

“Not planning on going operational, Sam, but I have a bone to pick with that man and I need to be involved in what’s happening,” Callen stated evenly, holding Sam’s gaze and letting him know he was serious. G tended to disregard his injuries, but Sam had never seen him step over an imaginary line. G knew what he was capable off and he would back down - if grudgingly - when it was necessary.

“I’ll hold you to that. And you _will_ get that checked out.”

G nodded calmly, agreeing to Sam’s demand. “Now, where are we?”

Xxxxxxx

Callen turned away from his partner, addressing both Kensi and Deeks as well and therefore drawing them back into the discussion they had wisely kept out of. Now that Sam and he had settled their little negotiation about his presence on the bridge, it was time to move things forward.

“Nell and Eric have found the warehouse in Northridge where you were held. A tactical squad is preparing to go in but there are no heat signatures. At the moment, they suspect it’s empty,” Kensi started.

“They have checked the CCTVs in the area and found an increased traffic during the last two days, hinting they have been moving the weapons and have maybe even been meeting with buyers there,” Deeks added.

Callen shook his head, “The Hispanic wouldn’t meet with buyers there. That place was for storage, not for meetings. He’s arrogant and snobby. He would want to show off his status and wealth. The meeting place with buyers would be somewhere to reflect on that. Depending on who he deals with, he might also want to intimidate the buyers by showing off his superiority. Depending on who he is dealing with, that might backfire on him though.” He actually hoped that would backfire on The Hispanic … then again, he still had a score to settle and The Hispanic being killed by one of the buyers after he bit off more than he could chew would slight Callen out of any form of revenge. As a federal agent, _revenge_ wasn’t anything they were allowed to have and it was frowned upon to think about, but Callen at least wanted the satisfaction of besting him and putting him behind bars.

He might also gloat a bit.

“Anything on the ID of The Hispanic?” he asked, watching them shake their heads. He grunted, considering the possible angles to explore and leads to hunt down. “Alright, Kensi and Deeks - head to the warehouse. Turn it upside down and see if you can find any leads. Sam and I will head to OSP as soon as we dock.”

First step was to regroup… and for him to find something warmer to wear than the scrubs… and grab something to eat that didn’t consist of protein bars… and maybe steal some of Hetty’s tea.

Xxxxxxx

They entered Ops and Sam instantly veered off towards the gym. Callen arched an eyebrow before he saw Hetty standing in the entrance of the tunnel that led to the bullpen. He swallowed the urge to holler a ‘traitor’ after Sam and instead headed towards Hetty.

She watched him approach and turned, moving towards her ‘office’. He knew better than to disregard her. Her waiting for him at the entrance of the tunnel had been a clear summons.

He sat down and nodded his head in askance towards the steaming hot cup of tea that stood on the visitor side of the desk. When Hetty gave him an answering nod, he instantly reached for the cup and cradled it in his left hand. The good thing with the fine china Hetty always used was that the walls were thinner than those of a mug and therefore the warmth easily radiated outwards. The disadvantage was that the cups were way smaller than a mug and didn’t hold as much of the hot beverage as he would like to drink right about now.

“I understand you signed yourself out against medical advice,” Hetty stated. He heard the ‘ _again_ ’ even if it wasn’t voiced.

Callen took a sip of the tea, cherishing the taste of a nice blend. “My core temperature improved.”

“It’s still lower than normal,” Hetty interjected, and _of course_ she knew those details, confidentiality be damned.

He refrained from rolling his eyes. “True, but it’s not dangerous anymore. Honestly, Hetty, I’m feeling no colder than during the winter I spent working in Russia ’95.” There hadn’t even been any hint of frostbite in ’95… that had been in Uzbekistan two years later, after Tracy had abandoned… he slammed the door shut on that thought.

Hetty continued watching him, waiting if he would break and offer some other information. Callen had known her long enough to understand her game though. He had learned long ago to mind his words with Hetty and not let his mouth run away from him. At the age of fifteen, her stare had prompted him to babble sometimes, but he had trained himself out of that for sheer self-preservation. It also helped in the business and had prepared him well for one or another interrogation. Callen leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea.

“Your hand.” Hetty prompted with a glance at his right hand.

“I’m sure you’ve got our team at Cedars-Sinai on standby,” he shrugged. “I’ll head over there as soon as we find The Hispanic.”

Hetty shook her head, “no, Mr. Callen. You will head there as soon as we finish our little discussion.”

Callen tilted his head to the side. So they were haggling, their starting points far apart from each other and slowly approaching each other as they compromised. The fact that Hetty hadn’t forced him into the back of an ambulance at gunpoint after disembarking from the Coast Guard Cutter let him know he had some leeway, but obviously not as much as he had hoped for.

“If the wonder twins haven’t found The Hispanic or any of his associates yet, I want to use our software to get a phantom picture done,” Callen gave back, reducing his demand.

“Nell can come with you to Cedars-Sinai to do that there,” Hetty offered.

He shook his head, “you know as well as I do that Nell is of better use here in Ops and not several blocks away at Cedars. Kensi and Deeks will report in soon and Eric and Nell will both be needed here.”

Hetty pursed her lips, her eyes slightly narrowed, but Callen had outmaneuvered her and she knew it. She relented with a small nod.

Callen smiled widely, enjoying his victory.

“As soon as the picture is done you will go or I will personally march you out of here. No dawdling either.”

He was under no illusions that Hetty wouldn’t do exactly as she warned him… at gunpoint if necessary. Callen nodded simply. He finished his cup of tea and then stood. First stop was his go-bag for a different set of clothes.

Sam materialized by his side when Callen stepped into the locker room and Callen arched an eyebrow. “Thanks for the backup there, partner.”

“Oh, I’m sure you had it well _in hand_ ,” Sam smirked, leaning against the row of lockers. As usual, they groaned a little under his weight and Callen thought he saw them shift half an inch.

He refrained from throwing something at Sam for the comment, silently granting him that point - or as Deeks would say: _touché_. He started stripping and then headed for the showers, wanting to get rid of the stink of saltwater and sewage.

Xxxxxxx

When Callen stepped into Ops, freshly showered and in warmer clothes than was necessary for anyone else, Nell and Eric both greeted him with wide smiles that showed their relief.

He was about to speak when his eyes fell onto a picture on the secondary screen. He tilted his head to the side upon the photo of himself, unconscious on the floor of the cave.

Nell gasped softly and started closing down the windows on her tablet to take the picture off. Callen held up his hand and shook his head. “Don’t,” he ordered gently. It was a rather unflattering picture but now some things were falling into place in his mind. That was why they had beaten him unconscious after breaking his hand. He had wondered about that. By disabling his right hand and chaining him to the wall, they had secured themselves enough of a head start to get away. Even if he had been able to pry the shackle open despite the fractures in his dominant hand and the damaged lock, he wouldn’t have managed to catch up with them. So beating him unconscious had seemed unnecessary. But obviously they had wanted to take a souvenir and he knew well that a picture with him conscious and glaring at the camera wouldn’t have given off the ‘helpless’ vibe that unconsciousness did. “When did that come in?” he asked.

“An hour before noon today,” Eric told him and Callen frowned. He had been in the cave over 24 hours by then. The Hispanic had definitely not played fair. If the chain had been too short or the tide any higher, he would have drowned long before his team had been alerted. His eyes narrowed in anger while his hand throbbed.

Still, the fact that the picture had only been sent today added to his gut feeling that something was going down now. Yesterday would have been spent as a wild goose chase for his team without any leads and today would have upped the pressure once the picture had been sent and the team understood the implications. Any leads that may still have been hunted down the day before in regards to their missing weapons case would have been dropped as soon as that picture was sent. That could be regarded as a free pass for The Hispanic and his coup.

“Bring me up to speed,” he ordered Nell and Eric, turning away from the picture. They needed to put this together quickly if they had any hope of stopping what was happening.

“As expected, the warehouse where you’ve been held was empty,” Eric started, “Kensi and Deeks are still looking for clues, but so far nothing. We’ve monitored increased traffic from the warehouse and have Kaleidoscope looking for the vans that appeared repeatedly, but they’ve stuck to back alleys and therefore we lost them after two blocks.”

“Any IDs on the drivers?”

Nell shook her head and pulled up several CCTV stills of the vans in question. The drivers were unrecognizable beneath large sunglasses and ball caps.

“What about our CI? Any lead on him?”

“No,” Eric shook his head, only to turn his attention to his screen when an alert flashed up, “actually, scratch that. I just got a hit on Marc in Santa Monica.”

Callen grinned, “send the address to Sam. I’m sure he’d like a word with him.”

Both techs grinned back. It seemed that all of them were in for some kind of vengeance within the limits of their status as federal agents.

“Nell, start up our phantom software. I need you to help me with the phantom pictures for The Hispanic and at least his two gorillas. I might be able to also put something decent together for these two guys,” he pointed to two of the drivers who looked familiar from when he’d been inside of the warehouse. He wasn’t sure how good of a description that would be considering the men had shifted the crates a good distance away from him in the semi-darkness of the warehouse. He was willing to try it though. “Have you found anything on the tattoo?”

While opening up the software and leaving her station, motioning Callen to follow her to a quiet corner of Ops so that they could get started, she shook her head. “No, nothing yet,” Nell said with a shrug.

Callen frowned. He could have sworn that the man would be registered somewhere. “Have you tried countrywide or only statewide? What about international?”

“Nothing in California. Countrywide search is still running. You think we should widen it to international?”

He considered that, scratching his forehead, “The Hispanic and those two guys were comfortable with each other. They may be hired muscle, but they have worked together for a long time I think. The Hispanic is not new in the business. He was too self-assured for that. I don’t know whether or not they started here in the US or somewhere else, but my gut tells me that this operation is running on a bigger scope than we suspected so far. I think if we find one of those goons, we’ll soon know about the others as well.”

“You said you think they might have a Colombian or Venezuelan accent. How about we focus on that region first?”

“Good idea,” Callen nodded and waited while Nell entered the search parameters into her database. They wouldn’t get easy access to the criminal databases of Colombia or Venezuela though and he suspected there might be a hack-job in Eric’s near future to find out what they needed to know.

In the mean time, he would have some phantom pictures to do before he headed off to Cedars-Sinai. The only good thing about being frozen to the bone in cold water had been that the swelling hadn’t been too bad. Now that the vessels had opened back up though, his body was infusing the area with blood to start repairing the damage. His hand was throbbing as a result.

Xxxxxxx

Hetty appeared in Ops just as they were finishing up with the last software sketch. Callen knew better than to think her timing coincidental.

He gave his mentor a grin, letting her know he was onto her. Hetty didn’t react.

Standing, Callen squeezed Nell’s shoulder in passing. “Get those cross-referenced with our database. I’ll take a comm.-link with me, so if you have anything new…” he let the sentence hang.

Hetty watched him with slightly narrowed eyes, but she didn’t admonish him or issue a counter order. He guessed she could understand the need to keep his fingers on the pulse of this investigation. This one was somewhat personal after all.

Leaving Ops, he quickly made his way over to Cedars-Sinai. Considering that Hetty was pulling strings in the background, he knew he wouldn’t have to wait long and provided that his hand wasn’t too badly broken, he would be out of there quickly. He didn’t allow himself to consider the possibility of a surgery.

Xxxxxxx

When Callen left the hospital, the inflated cast exchanged for a light fiber one, he found his partner waiting for him. Sam was leaning against the challenger, watching him approach. “No surgery?”

Callen shook his head, “thank fuck. Six weeks cast, then it will be as good as new.” Some of the bones had needed to be reset to realign them, but at least the breaks were clean and would mend on their own.

“Sick leave?” Sam asked.

“Steve didn’t even try,” he said, throwing his partner a smirk. The doctor had told him he would usually put a patient on sick leave. Before Callen could argue, he had shaken his head and added he knew a lost cause when he saw one. Callen was on restricted duty and would only be allowed to return to field work after physiotherapy and functional tests once the cast was off, but at least Callen wouldn’t be banned from Ops… not that he would have heeded that order. He guessed he would have some time to practice working with his left hand for the next few weeks; it might also improve his stats when shooting left-handed.

Sam pushed away from the car and opened his door, sliding inside and waiting for Callen to climb into the passenger seat. Buckling up, Callen turned towards his partner and posed his own question. “Marc?” He still wondered if they had both been fooled so thoroughly by their long time CI, wondered if he needed to brush up on his situational awareness, his instincts and gut feelings.

The dark expression that clouded Sam’s face made him anxious.

“He’s scared shitless,” Sam grunted.

Callen wasn’t sure if that was due to the confrontation Marc had found himself in with Sam or if that had different reasons and when Sam didn’t elaborate, he silently prompted him, making a rolling motion with his hand.

“We’ve placed him in protective custody. They threatened his sister and her family if he didn’t comply with what they wanted him to do. Protective custody for them, too.”

Callen pursed his lips, feeling some of the worry dissipate that they hadn’t been voluntarily sold out by their CI. Still… “You sure he isn’t lying?”

Sam nodded firmly, “absolutely sure.”

Callen returned the nod and leaned back into the seat. If Sam was sure, he would trust that judgment. While he would have liked to be there to see the reactions himself to sooth his own ruffled feathers, he knew that Sam’s protective instincts were in overdrive right now and if there had been any doubt about Marc’s honesty, Sam would have sniffed it out like a bloodhound.

Xxxxxxx

Nell and Eric both looked at him somewhat bleary-eyed when he returned to Ops. Considering it was in the middle of the night and he doubted any of his team had slept much over the last few days since he had gone missing, he knew all of them must be running on fumes.

Sam was tired as well, but his partner was also still running on adrenaline after having part of his family being threatened and Callen knew it would be pointless to order Sam to get some rest. With Nell and Eric though… Callen shook his head. He needed the lay of the land first, to see if they had uncovered anything while he had been at Cedars. As soon as he knew how the game stood, he would send them home.

“Give me an update,” he ordered them firmly.

Nell straightened and pulled up the information she wanted to share first. Eric turned his head away and Callen could see him suppressing a yawn - despite the mug of coffee the tech had hidden in the half open drawer. Yeah, those two needed a break if Eric was willing to face Hetty’s wrath by going against the ‘ _no food or beverages in Ops_ ’-rule to stay awake.

“Facial recognition is still running on your sketches. I’ve included any entrance points into the US and have the system run through the backlog of the last six months,” Nell started and Callen nodded in approval. “Still nothing on the tattoo.”

“Kensi and Deeks found some papers at the warehouse. Rental agreements for the vans. Sadly they were rented under false names, so no luck there,” Eric shook his head.

Callen pursed his lips, “you plucked the pictures from the fake IDs they supplied the rental agency with and have them running for a match?”

Eric arched an eyebrows in a ‘duh, of course’-gesture, he didn’t verbalize. Callen smiled at the restraint of the tech. It let him know that Eric was not yet at the end of his rope if he still had that much restraint over himself. Eric lost his brain-to-mouth-filter when he was beyond his endurance. If he still had some restraint, he also wouldn’t miss anything as was always a possibility when one was running on fumes. Still, he needed to make sure the two got a break so they could perform at the top of their game tomorrow… or later today as it was.

“What about the warehouse? Leased?” Callen asked.

Eric nodded, “yeah, also under false name, though the company it was leased to does exist. It belongs to a company in Suriname but I think that is more a front than anything because that cooperation seems to belong to another shell company registered in Cuba which belongs to one in Indonesia and so on and so forth. I’m still back tracing it.”

“Alright,” Callen muttered, his eyes roaming over the monitors and screens, “put anything you have on the companies so far on the screen and whatever info you have on the server, I’ll have a look at that in a moment. In the meantime, I want you two to go home, get some rest.”

Both Eric and Nell drew a breath and he could feel the protest coming. “Not negotiable, guys. There’s nothing more you can do until the search results are in and I need you fresh so we can nail that guy.” He saw them deflate and smiled gently at them both, “you’ve done a great job, and I’m not only talking about _that_ ,” he nodded his head to the monitors where the searches were displayed as running, “but also the last two days. Thanks, guys.”

He watched them both as they smiled in barely hidden delight at the praise. He wasn’t always vocal about offering praise or thanks, often simply expecting everyone to perform to the best of their ability, but sometimes, he did feel the need to offer the words and he knew it was precious to the team if he did so. “Now get out of here before something beeps and snags your attention,” he told them with a grin and made shooing motions. Both Eric and Nell stood and brushed past him with muttered goodbyes after collecting their stuff.

Callen remained standing in the quiet of the Ops center, giving himself a moment of respite to take a deep breath - as deep as his ribs allowed - before he let his eyes move to the monitors around him where Eric had brought up the information about the company that had leased the warehouse.

Xxxxxxx

Sam entered Ops half an hour later with Kensi and Deeks on his heels. Callen glanced up from where he was sifting through the information that Eric had managed to unearth so far.

“Where are Eric and Nell?” Kensi asked after a glance around the deserted room.

“I sent them home. You should go, too. There’s nothing to go on right now. Most of the searches are still pending. Eric is trying to trace the real company instead of the fake setup that they used to lease the warehouse. Facial recognition is also still running. So for now, we have nothing to go on. Use the time to get some rest. I have a feeling that things will start happening soon and we’ll have our hands full with the fallout later today or tomorrow at the latest.”

All of them watched him.

“What about you?” Deeks asked the question he could see on all of their foreheads.

Callen had to give him points for venturing forward and putting the question out there. That was usually more Sam’s part. “The hand is in cast for several weeks. I’m benched but will work from Ops.”

Kensi had the audacity to roll her eyes. He knew that had not exactly been the reason for Deeks’ question. He smirked and tilted his head to the side, “I’ll crash on the couch in a little while,” he told them. He was still too hyped up after the last two days and while his energy levels were rather low, his subconscious would not allow him to rest for a while longer. He needed the safety of OSP to sink into his being first before the exhaustion would have the ability to overcome the survival instincts that were still clamoring for his attention. With everyone winding down and leaving, he knew the silence of the deserted building would eventually allow him to calm down and relax, but that wouldn’t happen from one moment to the next. And he needed to get them out of here so he would have the possibility to get some rest before OSP woke up once more in the morning with the staff trickling in. It was shortly after 3 am and he knew he would need at least another hour to wind down once he was alone. Hopefully he could swing an hour or two of sleep before people returned to work.

Deeks opened his mouth to say something, but Kensi reached for his wrist and then tugged him after her, out of the Ops center. “See you later,” she called back over her shoulder.

Callen watched them go with a smile, watched her drag Deeks out against some unconvincing protests. It was a toss-up on whether Kensi just decided to not look a gift-horse in the mouth or whether she had seen his need to remain here in solitude and had acted upon it. He didn’t care either way.

“G,” Sam hedged and Callen held up his hand to stop his protests.

“Use the heavy bag, do cardio training or go home to wind down… basically, I don’t care right now,” he said, his voice gentling to take the sting out of his words, “I need to settle myself and that is easiest done here.” He would prefer it if Sam left the Mission too, but he knew he would get by with his partner remaining in the building as long as he gave Callen his space. Callen stood and went over to where his partner leaned against the main table. “The other option would be going dark and I don’t think anyone would appreciate that,” he added quietly.

He saw Sam’s expression change, knew he had given his partner a hint at just how unsettled he was right now. Usually, he didn’t show weakness, hid it behind cloaks and smokescreens but he owed Sam some part of the truth at least. It would also allow Sam to understand that he needed space to do this on his own. Callen’s instincts were still on full alert and if he wasn’t left alone, he would eventually succumb to the lure of them dragging him off to where no one could find him to make sure he was safe.

Admittedly, he wasn’t perfectly sure if he could stop them from doing so once the case was closed and The Hispanic was in custody. Right now, finding that man played a large part in keeping him tethered here.

Sam wordlessly pushed away from the table and stepped around Callen, squeezing his shoulder on the way past. Even if Sam didn’t say anything, he knew that his partner had understood what he had said and was granting him space. They had worked together for many years now and while Sam was a team player, he had learned over the years that Callen was made out of a different fabric and had needs that sometimes clashed with Sam’s. It had taken them a long while to find their footings with each other concerning those things, but by now they both knew to respect the other man’s coping mechanisms.


	6. Chapter 6

He was woken by the sounds of porcelain softly clicking together. An involuntary smile played around his mouth, knowing it was Hetty who was puttering around quietly. He also knew that she was not usually the first one in, but appreciated her presence as he knew his reaction to anyone else entering OSP while he was asleep would have been instantaneous and full threat-assessment.

Since he’d been living with her when he’d been a teenager, they were still somewhat familiar with each other and his subconscious didn’t regard her as a threat… foolish as that was. Callen smirked.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that he had managed two hours of mostly uninterrupted sleep. Stretching, he got up and straightened his clothing. The exhaustion still ran deep, his muscles were aching, but he felt mostly alright considering.

Hetty turned when he stepped into the open space of the bullpen and he endured her probing gaze wandering over his frame. “Tea, Mr. Callen?” she asked, turning back to the pot she was brewing.

“Yes, please,” he nodded, knowing it was an offer and a demand both and that Hetty had already prepared enough tea for both of them. He sat down in the chair in front of her desk and picked up the cup of tea once it was put in front of him, inhaling the aroma.

Hetty sat down as well and watched him silently, taking a sip of her own cup of tea, allowing the quiet to remain between them for a little while longer. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable on the office couch again. What happened to your home?” she asked eventually, her eyes not hiding the fact that she wasn’t exactly enquiring about the couch as such but about his roots and habits on the whole.

“I’m sure my house can fend for itself for another day,” he gave back evenly. Hetty would understand the words, the distinct use of the word ‘house’ instead of ‘home’ and the subtle hint that he was taking care of himself.

She watched him for a moment longer before nodding slowly, backing down. “How far along are we?”

“When I came down here, the automatic searches were still running. The company that leased the warehouse is a front and Eric is following up on that. I have a feeling that everything will fall into place once we have that information. I’ll have a go at what the wonder twins uncovered so far in another minute or so, start fresh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Something about the logo they are using for the fake company is intriguing me and tickling my senses. I want to follow that up.”

“Alright. I shouldn’t keep you from it,” Hetty said, a gentle dismissal.

Xxxxxxx

When Eric and Nell trudged in around 9 am, Callen was virtually elbows deep in paper and shifting through information on the screens. He glanced up when the two drew to a halt and let their eyes roam around the room.

Callen straightened. “Morning. Good to have you here. The tracing process for the company finished half an hour ago. I’ve had a cursory glance. As far as I can tell, it’s mostly import/export companies based in different countries. See if you can find anything I missed.”

There was a brief pause before both techs headed to their stations. He took a step back from what he had been doing, knowing he had intruded on their territory. He watched them work for a while, through the process of pulling up the companies’ information, watched on the monitors behind them when something caught his eye.

“Stop, stop,” he interjected, stepping closer to the screen, hearing the techs turn to him. He used the touch screen monitor and flicked back several tabs. A moment later, both Eric and Nell appeared at his side. “Don’t mind the actual companies for now; pull the logos from all the companies tied up in this and combine them.”

“Combine them _how_?” Nell asked with a frown, her head tilted to the side.

Callen shook his head. “Not perfectly sure yet. Pull them up first and put them on the screen. I have a hunch.” As he had told Hetty, something about the first logo had tickled his senses. It was an import/export company on paper and the logo consisted of interconnected shapes forming a line with a serrated arrowhead. That in itself was nothing unusual, also working well for a logistics company, but watching Nell and Eric flick through the companies’ information and watching the fake websites and logos move past had something else connecting in his mind, like pieces of a puzzle slowly fitting together - literally.

While the techs worked, the rest of the team entered Ops, stepping up beside them and watching the process while silently trying to catch up with what they had missed so far.

Callen looked on as Nell and Eric worked. The logos were different, mostly stylized lines and shapes in different colors and sizes. He pointed at one logo, “put that over there. Then this one goes…”

“Here,” Nell finished for him, interrupting him and he could hear some sort of giddy anticipation. He gave her a smile and knew she had picked out something as well and moments later saw the shape take form in front of his eyes. Eric, too, caught up and corrected several of the pieces, interconnecting them and overlaying them in places.

In front of them, the stylized version of a scorpion appeared. What had looked like a line and an arrowhead in that first logo that had grabbed Callen’s attention was actually a stylized scorpion’s tail. All the other company logos were bits and pieces of the stylized scorpion.

There was silence for several heartbeats.

“That’s the second time that the image of a scorpion appears in this case,” Nell mused.

“Coincidence?” Deeks asked, his tone of voice showing his opinion on that but still playing the devil’s advocate.

Callen shook his head. “It’s a similar shape compared to the tattoo I saw on The Hispanic’s gorilla, so no, I don’t think this is not a coincidence,” Callen mused slowly, racking his brain for something that seemed to hover just out of his reach.

The automatic doors swished open behind them and Hetty appeared at their side, studying the monitors. “Nell, open up the file called ‘ _Escorpio_ ’. Authorization code ‘Alpha-Terra-Eight-One-Zulu-Omega’.”

Callen jerked at the name ‘Escorpio’ and he felt the surprised glances from several of his team mates. “There were rumors about a South American weapons dealer years ago when I was with the Agency,” he stated slowly when the elusive connection he had been hunting just now was finally made.

Hetty nodded beside him, sharing a glance with him. “He’s a shadow figure, operating in the background. Authorities know _of him, but no one has been able to confirm his identity so far. Several agencies worldwide have hunted him, but no one came close. He always pulled back before he could be identified.”_

All of them watched the sketchy information appear on the screen that Nell managed to pull from the file. It definitely wasn’t much even though the man had been in the business for over a decade. Anyone who managed to stay hidden that long and left as little information to gather as they had in the file was a careful and resourceful man.

Callen shoved away from the main table, slowly pacing the room, “this move here, detaining me and throwing down the gauntlet like this… that’s incredibly risky. He’s been very cautious so far. Why risk this? And especially, why risk leaving a trained federal agent alive to be able to identify him?”

“He sent the photo over 24 hours after it had been made,” Sam pointed out softly.

“Long enough for hypothermia to set in and with the tides unusually high…” Deeks added, following Sam’s thought easily.

They all did. Callen hadn’t been meant to survive.

Aside of a faint stirring of anger, he didn’t feel anything at the thought. This man wasn’t the first enemy and he wouldn’t be the last. He had been ambushed, tortured and left for dead several times, but he had thwarted the odds so far. If anything, ‘Escorpio’ had made a dangerous enemy by taking him, putting him into that cave and then not making sure he was dead.

“Still,” Callen frowned, “he’s made certain to stay in the background so far so he couldn’t be identified. He wouldn’t endanger that without a cause. Whatever is going on, it would have to be big for the result to outweigh the risk.” He continued pacing the room, sorting his thoughts.

“I agree,” Sam nodded. “Maybe a show of strength and superiority?”

“It would fit well with his psychological profile,” Kensi added.

Callen had to agree, still… “a show of strength for who?”

“The authorities or the competition,” Deeks suggested.

“Sam,” Callen turned to his partner, “what did Marc say… who approached him?”

“One of the Mexican cartels,” Sam answered.

“The Hispanic wasn’t Mexican,” Callen shook his head. “He’s putting all kinds of false leads down… Mexican cartel. Bosnian intermediary for a Pakistani group. Shell companies set up all over the world.” He straightened slowly, reaching the first conclusion to put their investigation back on the streets. “Nell, I want you to analyze that stylized scorpion we put together from the logos. See if there’s anything that makes it special, or identifiable or whatever. It looks like a generalized version of any scorpion, but maybe there’s something that will give us a hint. If we’re lucky there’s something in there that will help us narrow things down. Focus on Venezuela and Colombia.”

Nell moved over to her station with an “on it,” thrown over her shoulder.

“Deeks, get in touch with the LAPD, see if there’s anything happening in the underbelly that we missed, power struggles we haven’t been made aware off yet. This guy is not stepping out of the shadows just for the hell of it. There’s a reward out there and that’s either money or power… or both.”

Deeks nodded and turned, leaving the room.

He turned to Sam and Kensi, “you two, get in touch with Marc again, find out more about the Mexican cartel and see if you can find anything on that end.” Both of them followed Deeks out.

He looked at the last remaining team member and handed out the last order, “Eric, you and I go through the companies again, check out the executive personnel and the figure heads on the web pages. I’ve got a feeling that The Hispanic is cocky enough to have inserted himself in there somewhere, practically waving his superiority in our faces when he’s _there_ but no one knows he is.”

Xxxxxxx

“And there he is,” Callen grinned, satisfaction rising up in him.

Eric and Nell both glanced up from what they were working on and he pointed to the main screen where he sent the picture. “Meet ‘The Hispanic’, also known as ‘Escorpio’,” Callen told them. Just as he had expected, the man had inserted himself in one of the shell companies. His picture had been where it could be found on the web pages - bold and stupid at the same time. Still, Callen had known the man had a big ego and therefore he had somewhat expected something like this. “Start facial rec and see if we can put a real name to the face.”

“On it,” Eric nodded.

“I’ll feed it into Kaleidoscope, see if we can find him anywhere in LA right now. Maybe he has gone for a cup of coffee,” Nell sniped, her voice showing she was still angry about what had happened over the last few days. It seemed everyone had a bone to pick with the guy.

The doors to Ops opened behind them and Callen didn’t have to turn to identify Hetty’s near silent tread. “I’ve just been informed by SecNav that there has been a breach of security last night.”

Everyone turned to her, their full attention on their operations manager.

“During the test of a new experimental naval weapons system, their servers have been accessed. Mission command managed to safely abort the test, but several codes and construction plans have been accessed.”

Nell pulled up the information that came in just then and all of them started processing the data.

Callen leaned against the main table in the room, taking in the information. It was an experimental weapons system - guided missiles. He turned to Hetty and found her glance on him, “this would be something worth coming out of the shadows for,” he suggested.

Hetty tilted her head to the side, “I agree, but so far there is nothing that ties this breach to ‘Escorpio’,” she said slowly.

“The weapons he stole so far weren’t high level class, but what they stole was some heavy firepower,” Callen argued. “From what we saw in the previous heists, they got bolder with what they stole. Where was the weapons test last night?”

“Pendleton,” Hetty answered simply.

All of the other weapons in this case had been stolen from Camp Pendleton.

“Maybe the weapons thefts before were staged to gain entry, working their way up,” Nell suggested, “they could have left some electronic equipment so they could remotely access the servers.”

“No matter if last night’s doing was ‘Escorpio’ or not, we should widen the net and include this as an option,” Callen decided. “Hetty, can you check with the ATF if they know of any ‘business meetings’ of arms dealers in the area?” He would do it himself or have Nell check, but if the stakes were this high, sometimes it was better to go to higher places in the food chain and have Hetty make the call so the other federal agency played nice.

“Certainly,” Hetty nodded and turned, leaving Ops.

“Nell, check with Customs and Border Control if Persons of Interest and known arms dealers tried to enter the country,” Callen asked the technical analyst.

“On it,” Nell nodded.

Callen returned the nod and then rubbed a hand over his face, “let me know what you find. I’ll be back in a bit.” He needed a break. His energy reserves were still taxed after the last few days and his muscles felt in turn rubbery or were burning with left over fatigue. His hand was currently throbbing and he was itching to go out and do something. He wasn’t used to being confined to Ops. He needed a moment to settle himself.

Xxxxxxx

After he left Ops, Callen moved downstairs. Before he could decide on whether to head outside or stretch out on the couch, Deeks entered the bullpen. He glanced over at the Detective who met his eyes and shook his head.

“Nothing from LAPD. There is some increase in gang related activities in East LA, but nothing that could be tied to arms dealing. They haven’t picked up any chatter about anyone trying to make a name for themselves. Nothing that could be tied to our case,” Deeks explained when Callen met up with him.

Callen shrugged, “it was a long shot,” he sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He hadn’t really expected anything from LAPD, but they’d had to check and sometimes, the scuttlebutt that was LAPD exchanged secrets around the water cooler that could be useful to them.

Right now, he was running on fumes. Being immobile and staring at computer screens all day long had not done anything to help.

“You ok, man?” Deeks asked.

Callen nodded, “I don’t know how the wonder twins can stare at those monitors all day. I’m going cross eyed,” he admitted, gaining a laugh from Deeks. He turned towards the small area where couch and lounging chairs had been set up, often being used as a place to take a break by each of the team. “Come on, I’ll bring you up to speed,” Callen offered when he could feel Deeks’ hesitation on whether to follow or leave him be.

Callen stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes, listening as Deeks settled himself in one of the easy chairs. “You on comms?” he asked, reaching up and tapping his earwig when Deeks muttered an affirmative. “Kens? Sam?” he asked, waiting for them to reply. By his reckoning, they should be on their way back as well or maybe in the finishing stages of following up with their old informant Marc. Nell and Eric would automatically be roped into their conversation since they held the reins in Ops. Those two would either pipe up if they had anything to add or they would remain silent if there was nothing new. They were good at multitasking and had mastered the art of filtering their chatter without being disturbed, only reacting to certain key-words if necessary.

“Just finishing up,” Kensi’s voice sounded out. He could hear the distraction in her voice, knew they needed another moment before they would be free to speak and concentrate on what was going on. Callen smiled slightly to himself. He had worked with these people for a very long time, could gauge their moods, their readiness and their levels of exhaustion with just a few words spoken over their comm.-system or by a brief glance. It was something he had once thought he would never have, had once thought it was something he would never want either, but found that it brought him some sort of comfort by now.

“We’re heading back now, G,” Sam spoke up just a few minutes later, the sound of movement easily audible; footsteps, car doors opening and closing before the Challenger’s engine was kicked over.

“Anything on your end?” Callen asked.

“No,” Kensi grunted, “Marc was approached by the Mexicalis. One of their runners gave him a message. He worked with them a few times. He doesn’t know how they found out he’s a snitch. They told him they wouldn’t tattle if he alerted them in case he was approached about guns from Pendleton. Threatened his sister and her family in case he didn’t contact them or sold them out.”

“How was he supposed to alert them?” Callen asked.

“Send a message to a cell phone number,” Kensi said and rattled off the number.

“On it,” Nell chimed in and Callen had to smile. Those two up in Ops were indeed a formidable force. Having worked together with them in Ops all morning had only extended his trust in them. They were a revelation to watch, working well together, seamlessly taking over each other’s tasks if necessary.

This whole team was a well oiled machine. Even with him being out of the field and shaking up long standing partnerships, they would find their footing within a short time. Kensi and Sam had worked together a lot in the beginning, before Deeks had come along, so those two still clicked easily enough. If need be, he could team Deeks up with Nell, but even if he kept Nell in Ops, sending Deeks, Kensi and Sam out together as a trio would work nicely.

“The Mexicalis have the western territory, right?” Callen asked with a glance towards Deeks.

“West, north-west,” Deeks nodded, “doesn’t mesh with LAPD’s information of increased gang related activities in the east. They didn’t have anything on any arms dealing. The gang wars are more about drugs than weapons.” Callen knew that, but Sam and Kensi didn’t and therefore Deeks used this chatter via comms to bring them up to speed on his findings at LAPD.

“There goes those leads,” Sam groused and Callen could understand his frustration. He put his left arm over his face, closing his eyes.

“There have been some new developments here while you’ve been out. First, we’ve put a face to ‘The Hispanic’ aka ‘Escorpio’,” Callen told them.

“No name to go with yet. Facial rec and Kaleidoscope are still running,” Eric spoke up, “picture sent to your phones.”

Deeks phone went off and Callen listened as the Detective shifted to get the device out and have a look.

Callen didn’t wait, but instead continued on with the latest revelation. “There also was a security breach tonight during a weapons testing at Pendleton.”

Both Sam and Kensi swore while Deeks remained silent.

“Experimental guided missile system. They aborted the test when the breach was discovered, but some authorization codes and the construction plans were accessed. They can’t be sure if they have been downloaded. The codes are in the process of being changed, but the construction plans…” Nell left the sentence hanging.

“Hetty is checking with the ATF on whether they know anything about an arms dealers meeting in LA. Nell, how far are you with Customs and Border Control?” Callen asked.

“Customs just mailed a list of Persons of Interest they intercepted at various entry points. We have two high profile arms dealers that were careless enough to get caught. Three more that were flagged only _after_ they entered the US. Needless to say they’d vanished by the time they were flagged,” Nell explained.

“So it’s safe to say that there’s something big going on,” Deeks surmised.

Callen grunted, “let’s hope we’re not late for the party.”

“Let’s hope not,” Hetty spoke up behind them.

Callen smirked when Deeks jumped in his easy chair with a barely suppressed shriek. He remained where he was. He had known Hetty was coming, had noticed the shift in the air that always preceded Hetty’s arrival. He opened his eyes and lowered his arm away from his face to glance at their operations manager. “The ATF got anything for us?”

Hetty nodded, “there’s been chatter on the street about a big meeting. They spent a lot of snitch money over the last few days and it seems to have paid off. They are preparing a raid.”

Callen sat up, “where?”

“They weren’t all that forthcoming until I mentioned ‘Escorpio’. They’ve had dealings with him in the past and have never managed to catch him. Seems their noses are bent out of shape over that,” Hetty pursed her lips in a slight smile, “they decided to take the help I offered in exchange for taking the credit for all arrests.”

“Do they take the fall too if it fails?” Deeks asked with a smirk.

“Lord no, that will be shared evenly,” Hetty replied with an eye roll, “I suggest you gear up, Mr. Deeks. Ms Blye, Mr. Hanna too. The raid will take place in about two hours.”

Hetty glanced at Callen and he shrugged. He knew his place was here right now, however much he wished to go out and be part of this. He glanced at Deeks and gave him a nod.

“Meeting point with the ATF has been sent to your phones,” Nell spoke and again, Deeks phone pinged before he stood and turned to leave for the armory. “Tactical teams two and three have been informed. Tac 1 is currently out with Nilsson’s team but will be available to you if they are finished in time.”

Callen checked his phone for the address, making quick calculations. “Nell, Eric, coordinate with the ATF agent in charge. Get me the blueprints of wherever that meeting is supposed to take place. I’ll be up in a few minutes and I want to talk with him or her, see what their plan is,” Callen ordered, “then find camera eyes around the area and check in and outgoing traffic.”

As so often, there was a simultaneous “on it,” coming from both techs. Callen nodded, “Sam, Kensi. Anything you need from the armory, ask Deeks or the tac teams to bring it to you. You won’t have time to return to gear up here.”

Both Kensi and Sam affirmed the command. He knew they had already come to that conclusion themselves. He tapped his earwig and signed off.

“I know you would rather be out there,” Hetty stated quietly.

Callen sighed, “don’t, Hetty.” He shrugged and gave her a small smile, “I’d rather be out there with my team any day, but right now, I’d be a liability,” he said sincerely, holding up his right hand in its cast. “I don’t like it, but I know how to accept it.”

Hetty tilted her head to the side, “there would have been a time when you’d been tempted anyway.”

Callen smirked slightly, “oh, I’m still tempted alright,” he admitted, getting a laugh out of Hetty, “but I’ll behave.”

“Good to know. Get on with the preparations, then join me for a cup of tea if there’s time.”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to have a pep talk with Hetty, wasn’t sure if he wanted to have her analyze him in detail, but he also couldn’t decline. If there was time, he would have some tea with her. If not, they would most likely sit down together after everything was done, after every t was crossed and every i dotted. He gave her a nod before standing and heading up to Ops.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the last chapter of this piece. I hope you enjoyed the ride   
> And yeah, there might just be a sequel in the works ;)

Tea hadn’t been in the cards. Callen had spent the better part of the last 90 minutes in Ops, conferring with the ATF agent in charge, the tactical team leaders and the rest of his team.

Contrary to a lot of previous joint task forces, this one was lacking the usual struggles for leadership. Callen had heard of the agent in charge during his time with the ATF and as that had been years ago, he had touched base with two former colleagues and found that Agent Aaron Lawson was still highly respected. The personal files Eric had ‘acquired’ had also supported that belief. The man was good at what he did and he was resourceful. Speaking with him and working out a joint plan of attack had allowed Callen to relax. While he wasn’t personally around, his team was in good company and had professional backup.

Callen and Lawson had clicked and quickly drawn up a solid plan that everyone was in agreement of. He had every faith that they would pull this off nicely.

Callen glanced at Nell when she frowned. He stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, trying not to disturb Eric who was busy reconfiguring a satellite to give them necessary visual from high up above. There were relatively few cameras in the immediate areas so they would have to use an eagle eye from the sky.

“I just got a hit on Kaleidoscope,” she muttered back.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Callen asked.

Nell glanced at him over her shoulder, “it would be, if it was in the right area.” She shook her head and turned back before pointing at the screen, “I’ve had Kaleidoscope looking for the three arms dealers that slipped through Custom’s fingers. The hit was for Adil Fahd. He’s believed to be second in command of a very radical fraction of an Islamic group. They are suspected to have had their hand in several attacks on Western bases and convoys. Weaponry like what was stolen and the schematics for the experimental system would be right up their corner, so it’s a good bet they are in on the meeting.”

“Alright,” Callen nodded. He had not had time to follow up on the Persons of Interest that Customs had missed picking up, had needed all his concentration on the upcoming raid and the preparations for it. Following those leads was right up Nell’s corner though, smack within her job description as an analyst. “So where is he?”

“So this,” she pointed to her screen, “is where the raid will take place.” Nell zoomed out on the map of LA. She circled another area, “and Kaleidoscope got a hit on a traffic camera here.”

Callen frowned. “Brentwood is a good half an hour from South Central. Maybe he’s late for the meeting.” It was a weak suggestion. No one would be late for a meeting of that kind… especially considering the kinds of weapon on offer. Being late meant leaving empty handed.

Nell grunted, “that could be if he was driving _towards_ South Central.” She glanced up over her shoulder once more, making eye contact, “Callen, he’s driving into Brentwood, away from the meeting place the ATF singled out.”

Callen straightened, “could they have been tipped off?” He turned to Eric, “Eric, I need that satellite up now. Heat signatures for the warehouse in South Central. Nell, check traffic cameras around Brentwood. Scroll back through them and see if you can find anyone else on our watch list.”

“Shall we call the raid off?”

Callen shook his head, “not until I know more. We’ve got five more minutes before the teams are scheduled to go in. So, you got time to find what we need. No pressure guys.” He grinned.

Even with them both being turned towards their monitors, Callen could feel the exasperation pour off of both of them. Just one more time he expected miracles of them.

It wasn’t quite the adrenaline rush he was used to having while being out on the streets, but he was alert and coiled for action now, even if he could only follow it from within the confines of the Ops center.

Callen turned to the computer terminal he had appropriated for himself and drew up the communications protocols. He singled out his team and tapped his earwig. “Heads up, guys. You might have to scramble. One of our possible participants was filmed going into Brentwood. The South Central address might be a decoy.”

Various swear words came over the line.

“It fits well with what he’s done so far, putting down false leads all over the place with the Mexican cartel, Bosnians, Pakistani groups,” Sam spoke up, solidifying Callen’s hunch. They often used each other as sounding boards, tossing ideas back and forth and following each other’s suggestions. It worked well for them and had often brought results. Still, he wasn’t yet decided on calling the raid off unless Nell and Eric gave him further reason to. This was too big to mess up. But his gut feeling got more pressing. Brentwood was more an area where he could see Escorpio pulling off this deal. South Central was too shady for the man. He was cocky and arrogant, wealthy and liked to show off. Brentwood was more his style. Some nice villa or country estate, brandy, scotch and expensive wine over negotiations.

Callen internally debated with himself, wondering if he should just give the order to abort without further information after all. He opened his mouth but before he said anything, Nell cursed next to him. He glanced over and she pointed at the big monitor. Needing just a second to take in the information, he curled his lip in anger, “find those cars. Where are they now?” he ordered, his voice lowering into a growl. He would not be bested by this man. He opened up all channels. “All teams, we have information suggesting the South Central location is merely a decoy,” he spoke.

“What information?” Agent Lawson was the first to speak up.

“Several known arms dealers have been spotted on CCTVs going into Brentwood.” He looked up before going on when Eric snapped his fingers to get his attention. Callen followed the finger pointed into the direction of the screen and took in the satellite images overlaid with heat signatures. “Abort mission,” he shook his head, “there are merely five heat signatures in the building you’re about to go into. Agent Lawson, scramble a small team to take care of those five. They are clustered at the east corner of the building, close to the entrance. The rest of you, pack up and head towards Brentwood. You’ll get your destination en route as soon as we have it,” he glanced over to both Eric and Nell who shook their heads without glancing up from what they were doing, knowing he was questioning whether they already had something or not.

Callen listened with half an ear as Agent Lawson picked out several agents to remain at the South Central location and apprehend the five suspects inside. He was glad the other agent didn’t put up a fuss and counter his orders. A leadership struggle was the last thing they needed right now. They all had to get their acts together or this deal went off without them. He definitely didn’t want to think what the construction plans of those missile systems would do in the hands of enemies. At least Nell had gotten confirmation that the missile codes had been rewritten half an hour ago and therefore weren’t in danger of being set off anymore now.

He signed off and stood, pacing the room while trying to stay out of Eric’s and Nell’s way. He knew this was their territory and while he knew his way around Ops well enough and could do the odd task to support them, he couldn’t help them in this right now. The best thing he could do was stay out of their way, let them focus on what they were doing while he held off the stampeding masses that would soon be calling for attention and new orders.

The Ops doors swished open and Callen whirled around, watching Hetty come inside.

“Trouble in paradise, Mr. Callen?” she asked, her eyes taking in the happenings on the monitor.

“This is a long way off from paradise,” Callen growled, biting his tongue upon Hetty’s glance and her arched eyebrow. He took a deep breath and gave her a slow nod, knowing she had given him a voiceless command to settle himself. He definitely didn’t like being on this side of an investigation. Usually, he was in the middle of things. “Looks like the South Central place is a decoy. A small team will still go inside, but the rest is headed towards Brentwood where several known arms dealers have been spotted on CCTVs,” he reported even though he suspected she already knew.

“I found the cars,” Eric exclaimed.

Callen turned and strode over to where the tech sat, his eyes focusing on the big screen.

“Gotta love the famous and wealthy for their security systems. Got a hit on one of the license plates Nell flagged. They turned into this private estate,” Eric went on. “Nell, take over the satellite, please. Coordinates sent to your station. I’ll try to hack into the security system of the estate so we get eyes on the ground.”

Callen once more sat down at the terminal he had used all day and selected the appropriate programs. “All teams, location has been sent to your phones,” Callen advised, “stand by for further information.”

He glanced up when the picture on the big screen changed. “That’s quite a party,” he muttered, counting roughly 20 cars parked in front of a villa. It was an image coming from the satellite they had been given approval for. The villa was the last in the street, bordering to the forest of the Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park. “It’s not going to be easy to approach without being seen,” Callen mused, taking in the estate and surrounding area. A frontal approach would be spotted, but coming from the hills would be tricky as well.

A tentative plan of attack began to form in his mind.

“I got eyes inside,” Eric stated and Callen once more glanced over to the tech who redirected his attention to the secondary screen. “The meeting is taking place right now, looks like 15 arms dealers. Rest seems to be security; some inside the meeting room, some patrolling the grounds.”

Callen nodded, taking in the sights for himself. His eyebrows climbed up upon seeing the persons present. “That’s like the who’s who on the most influential arms dealers present in one room,” he muttered.

“They are bound to have contingency plans,” Hetty warned.

“Maybe South Central was their contingency plan,” Eric suggested.

“No, people like them have more than one contingency plan,” Callen shook his head. “Nell, check with LAPD if they can offer air support. Eric, blue prints.”

“Already on the main table,” Eric smirked and Callen shot him a grateful glance. Yeah, those two knew what they were doing. This was their territory after all and they knew how to anticipate what Callen would need. They had been part of the team for years as well.

He stood and walked over to the main table where Eric had sent the blue prints to, staring at the building’s inside and trying to figure out how to approach. Every few minutes, he glanced up at the eagle eye picture from above, checking on whether an idea would work or not, confirming some, disregarding others. He knew everyone would have to defer to him now. He was holding all the cards and had the eagle’s view when everyone would only have ground information.

He made several quick notations on the blue prints and the satellite view, marking points of entry, ways of approach. “Nell, get me a direct line to Agent Lawson,” Callen said without glancing up. “And prepare to send these blueprints and satellite picture to his phone on my go,” he pointed to the versions he had in front of him, complete with his markings.

“Aaron,” Callen stated when he heard the soft click of the communication line opening up. He hadn’t been on a first name basis with the man so far, but decided to use his given name now, inserting familiarity over professional curtsy now.

There was just a brief pause before the other man spoke up with a somewhat uncertain, “yes.”

“I have a somewhat unconventional plan for this. I know we agreed to devise the plan together but the meeting is taking place right now. We don’t have time to put our heads together over this. Can you trust me?”

There was a somewhat disgruntled sigh over the comm.-link, “and here I thought you wanted my first born.”

The comment, gruff but laced with humor, startled a laugh out of Callen and he felt his shoulders relax. He had hoped for the man’s cooperation, had tried to soothe ruffled feathers with his approach, but found that there were no ruffled feathers to soothe after all. “Nah, not today,” he gave back with a chuckle. “Blue prints and bird-eye view coming your way now,” Callen told the man while he turned his head to Nell and gave her a nod, “single out six team members that can handle a hike through rough terrain. If you don’t have six, I’ll settle for four,” Callen told him, starting to outline his plan for the other man.

Xxxxxxx

‘ _You’re nuts_.’

The words continued to circle round his head, but actually they gave Callen fuzzy feelings of satisfaction. Hetty had nodded her approval while he outlined his plan to Agent Lawson and the other agent’s exclamation had let him know that this would be one surprising attack and that few if none would expect something like this.

Deeks had laughed with glee when they had been informed of the plan of attack, both Sam and Kensi remaining mostly silent but he had heard the quiet approval.

All teams were approaching their positions now and Callen stood in the middle of the Ops center, his eyes shifting between the different monitors. Tension ran high while they were keeping an eye on the meeting going on inside and around the estate. With Eric having been able to hack into the security system, they would be watching everything unfold… additionally, they were recording everything and therefore racking up evidence against all the men in question.

“Callen,” Nell alerted him and he turned towards her with a questioning glance. She frowned heavily and he stepped closer.

“What’s wrong this time?”

“We have a convoy of four cars approaching fast. If they continue with their current speed they will be spotted by the watchtower in 30 seconds,” Nell told him.

Eric had singled out a watch position shortly after their plan had been discussed, making some adjustments necessary. ‘Escorpio’ obviously didn’t want his meeting interrupted and therefore had positioned someone on high ground to oversee the area and warn those on the estate if it looked like someone was coming.

A convoy of four fast approaching cars was definitely something that would be noticed.

“One of ours?” Callen asked with a frown, urgency in his voice. If anyone broke their plan and waltzed right in through the front door, therefore ruining their chances, he would tear them a new one.

“No, all units present and accounted for,” Eric shook his head after he had checked his monitors and noted the positions of all their teams.

“Can we take them out?”

“Not in the ten seconds we have left until they will be spotted. At least not without giving our positions away,” Nell shook her head.

The comm.-system cackled to life. “Unit 5. Four cars approaching from the south.”

“All units, stand down. Damn it, you were supposed to wait for the ‘go’ from base,” Agent Lawson’s voice came over the line.

“None of ours, Aaron,” Callen spoke up after tapping his earwig. “Seems like we have party crashers. Saw them a few seconds ago. Identification pending. No chance to intercept. They will be spotted within the next few seconds.”

He had two options… take out the watchtower and alert the arms dealers with the shot that would ring out through the valley or let the watchtower alert the arms dealers of the approaching convoy. If he took out the watchtower and the approaching convoy was an expected party, he would give their game away. If he didn’t take the watchtower out and the convoy wasn’t expected, the meeting would be over as well. Doomed if you do, doomed if you don’t.

“Everyone, scramble to your positions,” Callen decided.

On the monitor showing the inside of the estate, the tension suddenly mounted. It seemed the watchtower had alerted everyone of the oncoming intruders. “Damn it,” he swore. “All units, you have a go. The convoy has been spotted and is not regarded as friendly. We’ll try to salvage this op as best as we can.” He turned to the two techs. “Find out who they are,” he ordered.

“Already ahead of you,” Eric muttered while typing, having caught the license plates and inputting them into the system.

Callen watched, half his attention on Eric’s monitor while he followed the action of the ongoing raid. He didn’t speak up, even if he sometimes wanted to offer helpful advice to the teams. He knew it would not be perceived as helpful but rather distracting for a field agent. Only when they needed to redirect a team, did he step in and put down the order. Otherwise he let the agents on the ground make the decisions and proceed as they had been trained.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?” Eric exploded and Callen whirled around, unused to the usually soft spoken man blowing up like this. “Those cars are registered to the C-I-fucking-A,” he snarled.

“Are you telling me that the Agency is stampeding through our mission?” Callen asked, his voice barely controlled.

“Seems like it,” Nell nodded when she re-checked some of her own data.

Callen tapped his earwig. “All teams, be advised the party crashers are from the Agency. Repeat, they are friendlies.” Even if they wouldn’t be regarded as such considering they were bulldozing into the operation and possibly damaging things beyond anyone’s control. “Nell, get me the supervisor of that bunch. Now,” he ordered.

Xxxxxxx

Callen sank down into the chair and gratefully accepted the glass of Scotch Hetty put in front of him.

They hadn’t been able to salvage the operation. The CIA’s appearance had spoiled all their chances. There had been some positive results: the missing weaponry from Camp Pendleton had been found, the construction files for the new experimental naval weapons technology had been secured and twelve of the fifteen arms dealers in attendance had been apprehended. What they had failed to archive though weighed heavily in his mind: ‘Escorpio’ had escaped. He’d had a well crafted escape plan and with the CIA bumbling in and prematurely tripping the alarm, ‘Escorpio’ had packed up and left.

The only saving grace of the whole fiasco was that they were able to put a name to the face: Emanuel Alvarez, a Colombian national. They could at least update the files that had been pretty slim so far, but their main objective had been to apprehend the man and that hadn’t worked.

Hetty had spent hours on the phone with SecNav, the Director of the CIA, the director of NCIS and various other high ranking officials, up to and including the Secretary of Defense. It had been heated discussions and he knew fingers were being pointed around to shuffle off the blame.

He mostly didn’t care about who was to blame. What he cared about was that the operation had been botched and the best chance to catch ‘Escorpio’ in decades had been missed.

He sighed and took a sip. “Sam and Kensi decided to let the security man from Alvarez stew over night. The second guard didn’t survive. Died on the way to the hospital,” he told her, continuing to update her on the facts she might have missed while on the phone.

Hetty sipped on her Scotch and breathed deeply. “I’ll be busy with the fallout from today’s disaster for several more days. I can already see a congressional hearing in my future. ‘No, Mr. Secretary, ATF and NCIS worked well together and adapted a plan on the fly before the men in black decided to pound on the front door and ruin a good thing we had going’,” Hetty mocked, resigned to having to dance to the tune of the higher ups while the blame game went around.

He knew they were not to blame and he knew Hetty would fight tooth and nail for them, but that didn’t always matter. Still, he knew Hetty had been around long enough to find the needed ammunition and make certain they remained safe.

He gave her a small smile, “we’ll make sure the files are ready when you need them. All t’s crossed and i’s dotted,” he promised.

She returned his smile and watched him for a few moments. “I know you would have wanted a different outcome.”

He shrugged and took another sip, “all of us did.”

“True,” Hetty agreed, “your plan was risky, but had a very high chance to succeed.”

Callen shrugged again and settled deeper into the chair, “we’ll never know now.”

“No, we won’t, but I still want you to realize you’ve done an admirable job today. Working with a different agency, gaining the trust of their man in charge and adapting a plan on the fly… that was good work, Mr. Callen.”

The words of praise did little to soothe the days’ failure, but still they were well received and Callen gave her a small nod of thanks. He drowned the last of the Scotch and stood, gently setting the glass down on her table.

Before he could turn away, Hetty spoke up, “Isaac Asimov once wrote: ‘ _In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate_ ’.” He glanced at her and she caught his eyes, “worry not, Mr. Callen. I don’t believe this is the last we’ve seen of Emanuel Alvarez.”


End file.
